


Road Trip - Asunder

by Sekiei



Series: Road Trip - Interludes [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut, canon up to gralea, post main story alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sekiei/pseuds/Sekiei
Summary: They'd fought a war, had won and survived. Things were finally looking up. Or they should have been... But Ignis was starting to realise that peace brought its own challenges. Some of which he was wholly unprepared for.(N.B. This is a post game alternative ending. Canon up to Gralea. There are no spoilers in there as long as you know what happened in Altissia.)





	1. Chapter 1

Author’s notes:

  * As I’ve mentioned before, the stories in this series constitute one headcanon timeline for me. If that’s also how you’re reading them, then be aware that this story is chronologically happening before ‘Phantasm’. If you’re reading it as a standalone piece then don’t worry about it, but know that it’s part of an alternative ending (canon until Gralea but with the last victorious battle happening there). This story is set as they get back to Lucis after their fight in Niflheim.


  * I’ve been writing mostly from Gladio’s POV so far, and I wanted to write something from Ignis's for a change. That’s all I wanted. And then it turned into this. I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible person. Having said that, I am a sucker for angst but not so much for tragedy so I won’t pull a FFXV on you. I promise. Your hearts are safe with me. Well not safe, safe. But you know, eventually, I’ll give them back in nearly the state I found them. Not in pieces so crumbled that you can never put them back together again (yes, I’m still salty about chapter 14).


  * Also I have done a fair bit of research into what blind people ‘see’, and there are many answers depending on the type of blindness and whether it happened from birth or not, and what caused it, from gradual degeneration to trauma, etc. It ranges from having no sense of sight at all, to the brain producing lights, shapes and even hallucinations to try and replace the information it’s not receiving, to varying levels of very reduced vision. Considering Ignis's situation and that his blindness was acquired through trauma most likely to his retinas (since it’s the light sensitive part of the eye and that the rest of his eyes seems pretty undamaged even post accident - I have the screencaps to prove it), I assumed in this that the nervous connection between his eyes and brain is still intact and therefore that he still has some sense / perception of sight but it is extremely limited. He might be able to tell whether lights are on or off in a room, whether it’s day or night, but nothing else.


  * Thanks to [@1000Needles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1000Needles/pseuds/1000Needles) for the feedback and editing. <3


  * Enjoy. Comments appreciated and welcome as always! ^ ^



 

 

*

 

 

Ignis didn’t enjoy the peace as much as he’d expected.

‘We need to recover the South barracks,’ Cor was saying, a few steps to his right. ‘They’re well equipped and would make an ideal base for sorties into Insomnia. Hammerhead is just too far. We’re wasting time every day, going back and forth.’  
‘A base without access to clean water or power is no base,’ Cid retorted, annoyance clear in his voice. ‘We need to focus on the water and power plants first. If we just go in through here…’

He pointed somewhere on the map Ignis couldn’t see.

‘I wouldn’t advise that,’ Dave said. ‘We had some hunters in the area last week. They said the entrance to the underground nearby is a still a goddamn daemon nest. And not the puny kind either. Just look at that…’

There were a couple of clicks as he brought up the report and accompanying pictures, followed by gasps and whispers from the audience.

Ignis waited.

‘Bastards,’ Cid said, his tone even more gruff than usual. ‘Regardless, His Majesty’s priority is to secure the city so civilians can return. The plants are essential to that goal.’  
‘So is getting rid of the daemons. Having a closer base would speed up the process.’  
‘Gotta admit,’ Holly said, ‘getting the plants running again is going to be tough work. Plenty of time for you all to run around chasing daemons when we get busy with the repairs. I got some fresh damage estimates this morning and they ain’t pretty.’

Papers got shuffled on the table as the audience leant in to assess the new figures.

Ignis realised he was silently drumming against his thigh and forced himself to stop.

‘I can’t guarantee the safety of the workers the way things are now,’ Cor insisted. ‘It’s not just daemons. There are looters too.’  
‘We could at least secure the plants and start from there. We’ll work on them and wait for your teams to secure routes alongside the power lines.’  
’Those numbers are worse than I expected,’ Noctis said, everyone falling silent around him. ‘What do you think…’

Ignis could feel the voice and attention of the King on him and he stood straighter, ready to admit he had no opinion since he had almost none of the information, but he didn’t have to. Noctis only had to look at him to know.

‘…we should do?’ the King finished, turning to the room at large. ‘I want everybody’s opinion. Let’s weigh options here.’

Well saved, Noct, Ignis thought. And as often of late, he was proud of his pupil. Noctis was handling the weight of the crown better than he’d expected. Considering how little he’d been able to help recently, it was a blessing.  
Ignis took a step back to lean against the wall, away from the table, still listening, but mostly waiting for the meeting to be over.

They’d been back to Lucis for just over a week, had made contact with Cor and Dave and started organising their forces and assets to reclaim Insomnia. They’d set up base in Hammerhead, as close to the devastated city as possible, and conducted sorties daily. Daemons were fewer and weaker, but there were still enough of them around to require a thorough eradication plan. Looters and rogue Imperial forces were another source of headaches. Progress had been steady but slow going, the scale of the destruction impairing their advance.

This was the fifth meeting Ignis had attended and they’d all gone similarly. At first, people included him, then they started to forget. And there were only so many times Ignis could interrupt them before the mood turned painfully awkward.  
He’d tried asking for the materials in advance, getting a young ensign to sit with him and read them, all the while ignoring the pity fuelling their diligent service. But it’d been little help. Things were changing fast, new reports were unveiled, maps were amended, and he couldn’t keep up. Even the most faithful description of a map or a photograph couldn’t replace seeing the real thing. A large part of what had always made him a genius strategist was noticing useful clues and elements others would have overlooked or dismissed. He couldn’t do that if he had to rely on another’s eyes.

 

Ignis had been a secretary on council meetings since he was fourteen years old. Despite the title, it hadn’t been long before the grey-haired generals had nodded and listened when he pointed out unnoticed weaknesses in a strategy of attack or made leaps in their understanding of the enemy communications. Ignis was brilliant and thorough. He was an asset that they couldn’t afford not to use to its full potential. Even those who did not like him, respected him.  
And for all their differences and squabbles, Noctis had always deferred to his judgement and intuition on serious matters. Until recently. Until they’d come back to Lucis and started the long-haul reconstruction process. This was not a matter of life and death anymore, this was about logistics and rebuilding, about relocating civilians and restoring infrastructure, it was tedious yet essential long-term planning.

Ignis didn’t know how to deal with it. Despair and grim odds had been easy. When there was no choice, doing the impossible became evident. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much one had lost and still had to lose, one could only follow that single open path. But the path, the path that he’d been struggling on, the path that he’d stuck to even when he had had to crawl in complete darkness, that path was gone. There were choices and discussions. There were options and no crushing deadlines. And it should have been Ignis's time to shine. He had a gift for making tough decisions, for successfully weighing alternatives. But his brilliant intellect couldn’t work without a minimum of information and by the time he could painfully, painstakingly, gather it, some other voice than his had taken over and he’d been left behind. Not quite alone. Not quite himself.

When he finally got out of the meeting, Ignis had made his decision and wasted no time asking Noctis to approve it. He found the King in his improvised office, at the back of Cid’s garage.

‘I should go oversee the stock in Longwythe. We need an inventory of our resources to put in place a requisition system. It’ll be key both for securing Insomnia and to start bringing back refugees. We can’t do it until we know how many of them we can support.’  
‘It’s important,’ Noctis said, but he couldn’t quite stop himself from looking dejected. ‘Still, I’d rather have you here.’  
‘You’re doing fine, Your Majesty,’ Ignis replied with a reassuring smile. ‘Besides, it’s not that far. I can be back within the hour if you need me.’

Ignis's plan was inspired. Longwythe was close enough from their main base of operation that nobody could accuse him of running away, even if it was precisely what he was doing.  
Noctis ended up reluctantly agreeing to send him. Ignis had made sure he had no good reason to refuse. The King also delegated two staff officers to help him. They were good workers, scrupulous and efficient. Ignis had worked with them before the fall of Insomnia and he trusted them.  
After a couple of weeks in Longwythe, they settled into a routine. Eva and Tuck carried out the inventory of requisitioned and donated supplies as they were brought in, reported to Ignis daily, and left him with little to do. He could only wait and tell himself it would get easier with time. His awareness of his surroundings had improved already. Soon they’d have access to the Royal Library and he would be able to get some braille tomes. He was a fast learner, he’d get the hang of it in no time.

It’d be fine.

Except it wasn’t. No matter how many times he repeated the words, they were hollow. He sat and stared, or pretended to, and the ever-encompassing darkness seemed the perfect illustration of the life he was tunnelling towards. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He hadn’t expected to survive, not after what had happened to him, not after strolling to the heart of the Empire to get the Crystal back. He had hoped he could do enough to give his friends a chance but that was as far as he had planned. He felt out of place. As if fate had made a mistake, as if he wasn’t supposed to be there. But he was. He went through the motions as expected. The last thing he wanted was to be noticed, to let his struggles darken the victorious mood, the upbeat spirit with which everyone around him tackled Lucis rebuilding.

It would be fine.

Ignis disliked going into the kitchen as well. There too he felt helpless and damaged. The motel they had requisitioned was well equipped. He knew the names and function of each and every tool hanging on the wall, the composition of all ingredients on the racks. He knew tens of recipes that could be made out of their stock. He remembered how to tweak them, improving them until they were unique, until they felt like his own. And yet, he was reduced to eating little else but bread and cup noodles, still too unsure and clumsy to attempt anything more elaborate. But he had to eat once in a while. And as long as he was avoiding social gatherings, he had to take care of it himself.

Leaning against the counter, Ignis waited for the water to boil. He took off his glasses, rubbed at his eyes. They felt dry and sore. He suspected he wasn’t blinking nearly as much as he should. It wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. He put his dark shades back on, idly wondering why he was still wearing them. Habit. Probably.

The door of the kitchen opened to a step that was light and sure, a step that would usually bring a spontaneous half-smile to his face. He tried to mimic it and managed a good enough approximation. He had always been good at pretending.

‘Hey,’ Gladiolus said.  
‘Hey,’ Ignis replied. ‘What are you doing here?’  
‘A couple of cars broke down, so we’re not going out today. Cindy said we’re not going anywhere until she services them all, and that’s going to take a while. I thought I’d drop by since I had some free time. I called but you didn’t pick up.’

It was easy to keep in touch with the phones. In theory. But Ignis didn’t remember what he’d done with his. Probably left it in his room. He couldn’t do much with it as it was and the outpost had a main line if there was an emergency.

‘Must have missed it. I’ve been busy,’ he lied.  
‘This whole inventory thing sounds like a logistical nightmare.’  
‘It’s not that bad. I have good people here and we’re making decent progress.’  
‘That’s good. We still miss you in Hammerhead though.’

Ignis smiled, polite and detached. Gladiolus probably missed him, maybe even Noctis and Prompto sometimes. He missed them too. But he was still better off here. At least, he was out of the way.

‘I’m sure. Someone has to tackle this though. We won’t get far unless we have a clear view of our resources.’  
‘Always the pragmatic.’  
‘Again. Someone has to.’

The water was bubbling away. Ignis turned off the gas and picked the kettle up. He misjudged where he’d left the open pot of noodles when he tried to grab it. The cup was light enough to tip over at the slightest bump. Dry contents poured over the counter and onto the floor. It sounded like a cascade of sand.

‘Damn it,’ Ignis muttered before chastising himself for it.

He had all but whispered the curse. Yet, this was unlike him. Lack of composure is never helpful, he reminded himself sternly. More annoyed by his own reaction than by what had happened, he set the kettle back onto the stove with a heavy hand. He heard liquid slosh and he knew he had messed up - again - even before the drops of boiling water fell on his hand and wrist.  
Ignis didn’t utter a sound this time, just grimaced and shook his hand to try and lessen the burning sensation. He heard Gladiolus move but he had no time to get away before fingers closed around his arm.

‘Let me see,’ Gladiolus said, his tone concerned, gentle.

Ignis snatched his hand away.

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t. This day was turning into a nightmare. He’d lost his temper in front of the man who knew him best, who would be able to tell just how much was wrong with him if given even a sliver of chance. Gladiolus was empathetic, perceptive, and cared deeply about him. It was the worst possible match fate could have sent him. He didn’t miss how Gladio froze when he pulled away from him. Ignis needed to get the situation back under control and fast. Letting Gladiolus get any closer to the truth would be dangerous.

‘I just need to cool it down,’ Ignis said, pleased when he managed to keep his voice steady and dispassionate.

Going to the sink and putting his hand under the tap allowed him to turn his back on Gladiolus, to let his jaw tighten for a moment while he tried to focus. He had to be careful. He didn’t think Gladio could see his expression from that angle, but he couldn’t be sure. There were so many things he couldn’t be sure of anymore. Eventually, there were a couple of steps behind him. Gladiolus was close, but not so close as to make him feel trapped.

‘I’m sorry, that was insensitive,’ he said, always quick to blame himself.  
‘Don’t be. That was on me. I just haven’t had much sleep.’

This time, it wasn’t a lie. But he couldn’t tell Gladiolus about laying in bed every night and counting the hours by the changing cries of the beasts outside. He couldn’t tell him about the nightmares that plagued him when exhaustion finally got the better of him. Darkness and eyes and teeth jumbled up together. Sometimes blood welled up from a gouged-out Crystal, a disembodied voice that sounded like a twisted version of Regis ordered him to crawl and come closer. It told him this wasn’t enough yet. He needed to give more. But when Ignis tried to move, his body lost substance and dissolved into indistinct shadows. It’s not enough, the voice accused. And it’s your fault.

‘You’ve always overdone it with work. Look after yourself.’  
‘I’ll do my best,’ Ignis answered automatically. ‘But you’re not really one to talk.’  
‘That’s fair, I suppose.’

Gladiolus moved back, went to tidy the spilled noodles. Ignis kept his hand under the water. The cooler his aggravated skin got, the hotter his eyes and the scars around them seemed to burn. He clenched his jaw and waited for it to pass. The cupboard door opened behind him. Gladiolus set two fresh pots of noodles down, poured water and stirred it gently. So quick and easy. Ignis turned the tap off.  
Despite his best efforts, frustration was still simmering under his skin. He wanted Gladiolus to say something condescending instead of handing him his cup as if nothing had happened. He wanted him to make a faux-pas, to tell him to be careful of the hot contents, to treat him like a child, so he could sarcastically shut him down and vent some of the aimless anger he was hanging onto. But he also knew it wouldn’t happen. It wasn’t fair of him to even imagine it. Gladiolus had been excessively careful not to patronise him since his injury. And while part of Ignis was thankful, it made dealing with him more difficult. Reluctant fondness and gratitude were much harder to handle than resentment would have been.

‘Iggy.’  
‘Yes?’  
‘If you wanted, I could stay tonight. I’ll have to leave early, but they don’t need me in Hammerhead before the morning briefing,’ Gladiolus said. ‘If you’re too tired, I’d understand. But it doesn’t need to be anything but a good night’s sleep. I wouldn’t mind.’

It had been a long time. It took Ignis a second to remember when they’d last shared a few truly intimate moments. Altissia. He’d pulled Gladio in the shower when Noct and Prompto were off trying to find Luna’s wedding dress. It had been quick, risky. And worth it. Thinking back, it felt as if they could sense something terrible was coming, that this could be the last time and they had to take advantage of it. But none of them had said anything. He wished they would have. He wished he had known what he’d been about to lose.  
Since then, there’d been a few stolen kisses, but no time or privacy for anything else. Ignis hadn’t thought about it much, but maybe this was good. Maybe this would finally take his mind off things. If anything, it should at least tire him out enough to get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. He set the cup on the counter before stepping into Gladiolus’s space.  
His fingers felt for the cotton of his vest, up to his collarbone, his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Quick and light. Gladiolus didn’t resist, but the pause before he kissed him back told of his surprise. They’d never been ones for public displays of affection and although they were alone in the kitchen, this was a communal space anyone could waltz into.

‘Stay. Please.’  
’Sure. You got it.’

The roughness in Gladiolus’s voice stung. Ignis was using him and he hated himself for it. He stepped away to grab his lunch.

‘I should go back,’ he said.

He had to pretend to be busy or his lies would come to light.

‘Sure,’ Gladiolus replied, his voice soft, trusting.

Ignis tasted bile.

‘Do you mind if I wait for you upstairs? It’s been a rough couple of days and I could use a nap.’  
‘Feel free. Second door on the right. It’s unlocked.’  
‘See you soon then.’

And this time, it was Gladiolus who stole a kiss before exiting the kitchen. Ignis leant back against the counter, listening to him leave. His eyes were burning. He really needed to remember to blink more. But first he had to find some place in the field tent they used as a warehouse to count the hours while staying out of the way of his subordinates who were actually doing the inventory work.  
Eva and Tuck seemed happy to have him with them, chatting the afternoon away, asking for directions as they went instead of waiting for their usual morning briefing. They also tried to pry stories from him about the King’s fight with the Empire. Ignis replied as evasively as he could. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of how straightforward things had been for him back then.  
Eva looked up the average blinking rate of an adult human being when he asked her to. About ten times per minute, she said, tapping away at her phone. It sounded like a lot and Ignis had never done anything average before. But this was as good a place to start as any. Average was probably a good aspiration from where he was standing.

He waited until night had fallen to head back. The temperature’d dropped a few degrees and the wind had died. The air was silent, but it wouldn’t last. Soon some stubborn leftover daemons would crawl onto the roads. There was less of them with each passing night. The world was irrevocably changing.

Ignis received a quiet greeting as he stepped into his room, enough to know that Gladiolus was sitting in the armchair by the window. Probably reading. He replied in kind before dropping his shoes and cane by the door. He knew the room well enough not to need it. The chest of drawers was a couple of steps to the right, against the wall. He set his gloves and glasses on top of it, listening to the steps coming up behind him. Hands were on his shoulders, removing his jacket in one smooth practiced move and throwing it on the nearby chair. Then Gladiolus was against him, warm and solid along his back, arms around him, face in his hair, simply breathing in. Ignis closed his eyes. There was a mirror on top of the chest of drawers and Gladiolus didn’t need to see how lost he felt. He forced himself to relax, to lean back into the embrace. It was nice. Hopefully, it would help. They stayed like this for a while, until Gladiolus dipped his head, lips brushing the skin of Ignis's neck, just under his ear.

’Damn, I’ve missed you,’ he said softly.  
‘So did I. Thank you for coming over.’  
‘It’s not exactly a hardship. I’d be here every night if I could.’

The words turned Ignis's blood to ice. Even as a supposition, it rang alarm bells in his mind as he suddenly realised how dangerous letting Gladiolus close was. He’d hoped a single night would provide him with a much needed distraction, but he hadn’t stopped to consider it was never going to be a single night. It had never been about a single night between them.  
In another life, he’d enjoyed being the sole focus of Gladio’s attention when they were alone. Now, it felt like a curse.  
Functioning around sighted people forced him to stay in a state of constant hyper-vigilance, figuring out what they could see and what image he presented. It was exhausting, and frankly unsustainable for long periods of time, particularly in front of someone who knew him all too well. Ignis's worn-out mind would falter at some point and betray him. He couldn’t let this happen. But already, control was slipping through his fingers like overflowing water. Already Gladiolus could feel something wasn’t quite right. A hand closed on Ignis's arm, turning him around gently. Ignis could only imagine how Gladiolus looked. Concerned, frowning, yet still ridiculously handsome.

‘You’re okay?’  
‘Of course,’ Ignis replied automatically before kissing him.

Because he wanted to, and because it was the surest way to distract Gladiolus. It worked as well as he’d hoped. They both had truly missed this. It was easy, spontaneous and messy. Hunger and relief rolled in one. Gladiolus had been too busy to keep up with his normal grooming routine. His beard was longer than usual, stubble rough along the edge under Ignis's thumbs. Unexpected and wild. Just something else that wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to be. It was oddly comforting.  
The drawers were digging in his lower back, so Ignis pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the chest. His hand grabbed Gladiolus’s vest, dragging him forward between his open legs. Their height difference all but erased, Ignis used his grip in Gladio’s hair to pull his head back, to have more control over the kiss. Gladiolus groaned softly in his mouth in response. It was a low, almost guttural sound that set Ignis's lust ablaze. He didn’t think, just hooked his legs to the back of Gladiolus’s thighs to draw him closer. The resulting friction affected them both, halting the kiss as they shared a couple of short, shaky breaths.

‘Fuck,’ Gladiolus said. ‘Now you’ve done it.’

His hands drifted down Ignis's back, slid under him, just enough to hold him up and pull them together, renewing and sustaining that gratifying contact. Ignis shut his eyes again. It was too much already. And then there was a hand on his cheek, a thumb on his lips that he bit not too gently, never one to yield easily. Gladiolus chuckled and went back to kissing him. Ignis focused on it, on the tongue softly licking against his, trying to forget that Gladiolus was holding him up with a single hand right now. The strength of those ridiculous muscles would never cease to amaze him. Not that he’d ever been given ground for complaints. If anything they kept things interesting.

‘Bed?’

It was a request more than a question. Ignis simply nodded, using his hold on Gladiolus’s shoulder to get back on his feet. The bed was only a step away in the small motel room and he barely had the time to bunch up a couple of pillows for support before he was pushed down on them. Gladiolus straddled him, fingers deftly unhooking the buttons of his shirt, brushing the fabric away, palm callused and warm against his side. Ignis knew what Gladiolus would look like in that moment. He remembered how his gaze would sweep over him, appreciative, sultry, before he’d bend down to let his mouth follow the same route as his eyes. And there it was, lips on his collarbone, hot breath trailing down, a playful tongue over his nipple. He gasped silently at the contact but Gladiolus noticed and smiled, mouth open, a hot brand against his skin. Ignis grabbed at his vest, tugging at it until he could remove it. He dropped it somewhere in the sheets, distracted by the return of Gladiolus’s lips against his, quick and teasing, already drifting off again. Teeth were on Ignis's jaw line, sliding down the curve of his neck. It’d been a long time and yet Gladiolus remembered how to make Ignis shiver and arc up against him. It was an intimate knowledge that couldn’t be explained, only experienced.  
And Ignis wanted more. He wanted to remember how things used to be, to find in their shared moments a door to a past that had forever escaped his grasp. His hands were on Gladiolus’s arms, following the strong line of the tendons in his forearms, the curves of the biceps, the smooth rounded lines of his shoulders, and the hard edge of his clavicle. He remembered the fine white scar that crossed over the left one. He let his fingertips look for it, patient and precise. But there was nothing. The little imperfection he had followed so often with his fingers, with his tongue, had vanished from his world. And lower, over the pectoral, there under flawless skin stretched the head of the bird of prey, the one that stared at him every time he rode Gladiolus, that made him feel like he was crossing a forbidden line and inspired such defiance he’d never wanted to stop. But the bird was gone. He couldn’t glare at it anymore. There was nothing, only smooth muscle and darkness. Ignis's hand fell back, heavy, lifeless, onto his own chest. His eyes were burning again. Blink, he thought absently.  
He had no defence against the image that invaded his mind, a beautiful construct too sharp and detailed to be a single memory. Gladiolus leaning over him in the evening light, the long shadows giving his skin the rich colour of burnt sienna. The dark tattooed lines shifting together with gorgeous muscles every time he moved. The bright frank smile he liked to offer before kissing him. The soft gaze that lingered on him, full of tenderness and wonder, and made him feel he was the most precious sight Gladiolus had ever laid eyes upon.  
Ignis could smell sunlight. It was what Gladiolus always smelt like, a combination of wild plants and clean sheets left too long under the sun with an aftertaste of worn leather. It was the smell he associated with pleasure, and warmth and intimacy. And it was still there, surrounding him, telling him of everything else that was also there. Bright, beautiful and perfect. But not for him. Never again for him.

That’s when he heard it. The sound of the facade he’d maintained so carefully fracturing. It was like a distant crack in the earth at first, far and booming, dying off into silence for an instant before his willpower collapsed into a clear crystal rain that tore his mind apart. Some distant, lost part of him wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, that this was it, this was the last straw that he couldn’t cope with, that his downfall had finally been brought on by someone he’d been struggling so hard to spare. His mind was muddled beyond recognition, but in the middle of it all, one thought kept breaking through.

‘I can’t do this.’

Ignis barely heard the words leaving his lips. Sounds came to him muffled and distant as if his head was under water. Hands stilled against his skin. His own palms were back on the body above him, but with a different goal, pushing hard. He felt Gladiolus raise enough to look at him. He sounded confused, not upset.

‘What? You okay?’  
‘Get off me.’

There was a pause. Surprise. Or disbelief. Ignis couldn’t be sure. It lasted but an instant before Gladiolus moved to obey. As soon as he was free, Ignis rolled to the side to sit on the edge of the mattress and dropped his head in his hands. His temples were throbbing - as they often did of late - but the sharp stabbing pain lancing through his skull was new. He heard Gladiolus circle the bed, his step heavier than usual, deliberate, making sure he wouldn’t surprise him. He stopped a step away and squatted down, probably trying to get a look at Ignis's face.

‘Iggy, talk to me. What’s going on? Did I do something?’

Ignis suppressed the urge to laugh at Gladiolus’s eternal willingness to blame himself for everything. It was far from amusing, but he wasn’t pretending to be making much sense right now. Instead, he clenched his teeth, trying to decide what to say.

‘I need you to leave,’ he settled on, head still in his hands, voice just loud enough to be heard from a few feet away. He had to get Gladio out of there before he completely fell apart.

He heard Gladiolus shift his weight on his heels, obviously reluctant to comply.

‘Iggy…’

The call was soft, pleading. Ignis wanted to scratch at his brain until it was so raw he couldn’t hear anymore. Gladiolus wasn’t ready to give up. He couldn’t catch his eyes, so he went to put a hand on his arm, slowly, with enough hesitation that Ignis could feel the heat before the contact.

‘Don’t,’ he said, filling his voice with all the hostility he could muster. ‘Get out.’

This time, it seemed to work. Despite his incomprehension, Gladiolus knew him well enough to realise that persevering would do more harm than good. He stood up slowly and went to put his shoes and vest back on. Ignis didn’t move. He heard the door open.

‘Try to get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

The door shut and he was alone.  
It took several minutes for Ignis to feel steady enough to stand up. Migraine and guilt were making him nauseous, but he forced himself to cross the room and lock the door before sliding to the floor to sit against it. The wood was firm and unforgiving. He leant his head back against it, a blessed anchor in the dark sea trying to drown him. Feeling oddly removed from the experience, Ignis witnessed his mind’s struggle as it tried to go back to its usual pattern: summarise, analyse, list options, make a decision and move on. But it was futile. He had no will left to reflect on his shortcomings, only a burning need to berate himself for letting things go so spectacularly wrong. Thinking hurt, more than ever. So he forced himself to sit straighter and started counting.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Blink.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Blink.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Blink.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Blink.

Ignis kept at it for a while, ushering his mind back to the dull exercise every time it tried to escape. By the end, he felt calmer but drained. His neck was stiff, his body pleading for sleep. He couldn’t put it off any longer, but the prospect was not exactly pleasing. Swallowing a sigh, he got up and walked to the bed. His fingers brushed the rumpled sheets. He didn’t have the courage to lie there and pretend nothing had happened, so he dropped in the armchair instead.  
Sleep came easily enough but, as often, didn’t last. Ignis's eyes fluttered open - in vain - countless times at a strong burst of wind, a daemon cry, a door closing downstairs, and whatever else startled him awake but was gone before he could identify it. Using ear plugs might have helped, but the idea alone was enough to cover his skin in cold sweat and turn his stomach. Taking away another one of his senses - even momentarily - would never be the answer. Chronic and inescapable exhaustion was still preferable.  
Thankfully, nightmares left him alone for most of his chopped-up night. It was only towards morning that he abruptly sat up, holding his breath, listening. He’d heard someone say his name.

‘Iggy…’

Soft, whispered in his ear. But as the painful thrum of his heart against his ribs tallied the seconds, silence rested undisturbed in the room. The only sound was the drawn-out howls of the wind outside. And yet, he couldn’t be sure.

‘Is someone there?’ he finally asked, despising every word.

There was no answer. Ignis slowly unclenched his fingers from where they’d dug into the corduroy. He let out a breath and waited some more, until he could convince his mutinous subconscious that he was indeed alone. He patted the table near him in search of his phone, wanting to ask it the time. His fingers closed on the leather binding of a book instead. Gladiolus’s. He’d forgotten it in the disaster the evening had turned into.  
Ignis picked it up, smelt the pages. He’d always loved the smell of books and it was pretty much all they were good for now. And yet, he set the tome down on his lap, opened it and turned the pages, the movement easy and familiar. For a moment, he sat there pretending he was reading. Knowing Gladiolus, it was probably some awful and cheesy romance, but he wouldn’t have minded. Not anymore. Ignis closed the book. Unsurprisingly, none of this was helping.  
The title was embossed in the leather of the cover in what felt like gothic letters. Golden against forest green, Ignis guessed, in an effort to give his world substance. He tried to decrypt the words, to read with his fingertips each letter in turn, but his efforts remained fruitless. None of what he was getting made sense.  
Already his blood boiled with frustration, eating away at his patience whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not. His own weakness annoyed him. Calm and countenance in all circumstances, that’s who Ignis had trained himself to be. But his self-control mattered less and less with each passing day. It was as if a malicious hand was hiding in darkness behind him and tugged at the ties that kept him together each time he relaxed his guard. Little by little he was collapsing into a shape he couldn’t recognise. And soon, he wouldn’t be able to hide it. He’d already failed the previous night. And as much as he hated the idea, it would happen again if he didn’t pull himself together.  
Ignis put the book back on the table, carefully, making sure to be in perfect control of his temper. He hadn’t fallen so low yet as to find relief in abusing inanimate objects. The thought had barely crossed his mind when it morphed into another, a leap that was a ghostly reminder of his usual brilliance. If inanimate wouldn’t do, he’d have to find something else. It was a stupid and dangerous idea. But it was all he had. And he had to do something - anything - to stop the downward spiral he was tumbling down into head first.

Ignis had no clue where his damn phone was but dawn had to be nearly breaking. He put his glasses and gloves back on, grabbed his shoes and cane and ventured outside, across the road and around the Crow’s Nest. He kept his pace brisk, cane sweeping in front of him. He wanted to be out of view before someone could stop him.

The open plains were easy enough to navigate. He tripped a couple of times on loose rocks but his sense of balance was still remarkable and it barely slowed him down. It was too cold for insects to be chirping yet. The only sounds were the occasional gusts of wind pushing dry tumbleweed around and Ignis's steady footfall on the hard ground. He kept going until he heard something new, a faint rustle to his right in the branches of a desiccated bush. Another two steps. The creature - no, creatures… Two of them. The creatures stalked him, quietly, but he couldn’t miss the careful glide of padded feet in his wake. Sabertusks. Probably. Ignis took a couple of deep breaths, forcing his heartbeat to slow down. He didn’t want to provoke them until he was ready.  
The fight was unavoidable. But Ignis welcomed it. It was exactly what he’d been looking for. He put his cane under his arm and conjured his daggers. There was a low growl at the flash of blue light. The beasts were running out of patience and they knew he was outnumbered. Ignis turned around and dropped the cane. The thud it made as it hit the ground startled the monsters and gave him time to put another couple of steps between them, just enough that he would hear them coming. It was all it took for his body to become swifter, adrenaline erasing fatigue. But it was nothing compared to the feeling of his head clearing. Suddenly, as if a mist had been lifted, thoughts crossed his mind clear and unburdened. Analysis, strategies, options were all there again at his fingertips.  
The beasts growled at him, hungry for blood. Ignis was smiling. He had to even the odds and fast if he wanted to stand a chance. The closest sabertusk ran towards him and lunged. Side step, twirl and his blade plunged into warm flesh in midair. Ignis had aimed for a clean hit to the chest, but he was a fraction of second too late and stabbed the beast’s abdomen instead. It screamed and twisted around. Razor-sharp jaws closed millimetres from Ignis's throat. The moist putrid breath of the creature blew in his face. His body reacted on instinct and already he had moved away with a back handspring, his fingers barely touching the ground.  
But the beast was still coming at him and he had lost track of the other sabertusk. Ignis suspected it was circling them, intimidated by the cries of its injured companion. The reprieve wouldn’t last long. Not now that the thick, pungent smell of blood and spilt guts filled the air. First, he needed to get rid of the weakened one. Fast. Time was short, so he went on the offensive. He rushed the injured monster, his daggers slashing the air in front of him in a criss-cross pattern. The sabertusk took a step back with a hissy snarl. That was all Ignis needed. He raised his hand high above the beast’s head, providing it with a precise and menacing target. Ignis held his breath. There would be no second chance. As he had planned, the monster jumped up to savage the obvious threat, extending its neck to bite and, for a fraction of second before it struck, exposing it to the second dagger Ignis had kept by his side. He got the timing right this time. Blood hit his face as he severed both jugular and carotid in one smooth slashing motion. The animal collapsed, gurgling.  
But Ignis didn’t have time to celebrate. The second monster was already running at him, using its friend’s demise as a distraction to strike from behind. Ignis tried to sidestep him, but his heel slipped on the bunch of entrails pouring through the slit abdomen of the dead sabertusk. He hit the ground hard and barely had the time to bring up his forearm to protect his throat when already the beast was on him. The scent of blood had it in a frenzy. Its teeth sank deep through skin and muscles. Ignis cried out, but his mind was still unclouded, quickly running through pieces of information and alternative courses of action. It was cold, analytical. It was bliss. Sabertusks tore flesh and limbs from their prey, he reminded himself. If he let the beast pull, he would lose his arm. So Ignis jammed his forearm further into the monster’s jaw, lifting his torso off the ground to follow as it tried to take a step back. It worked, but not for long. Already, the sabertusk was shaking its head from side to side, seeking to yank and shred. Ignis didn’t have the room or purchase to effectively use the dagger he still held in his free hand. So he flipped it and used the pommel to hit his assailant, first in the skull to disorient it, then as hard as he could into the ribs. It worked. The beast stilled, winded. Ignis hit it again. It growled, biting down in retaliation, crushing flesh and bones. Pain flared white, drowning the never-ending darkness in the searing shout of screaming nerves. But paying mind to the agony was a luxury Ignis didn’t have. Gathering his strength, he threw himself at the monster and twisted his legs around it, sending them both tumbling in the dirt. The sabertusk screamed and snarled as it tried to roll back onto its feet, but Ignis held it fast underneath him, repeatedly slamming the beast’s skull against the rocky ground using the ferocious grip it still had on his forearm against it. Smash. Again. Again. Again. Ignis heard the grim crack of bone. Again. The monster stopped fighting for an instant, dazed, just long enough for him to drive a dagger deep into its chest. This time Ignis's aim was true. The blade punctured the sabertusk’s heart. The beast let out a ghastly scream as it thrashed a few times before finally stilling forever. Its jaws stayed clamped down in death and Ignis had to use a dagger to pry them open. He bit back a cry as vicious teeth were slowly pulled out of his arm. The wound was a mess of mangled flesh, fierce pain and frothing blood under his fingers. But he didn’t get the chance to examine it further.  
The earth trembled under his feet and a booming bawl resonated much too close for comfort. Ignis recognised the call. A grandhorn.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ he muttered.

But there was little he could do other than follow a rather uncomplicated train of thought.

Run.

Attracted by the chaos, the angry beast was trotting towards him, ready to make any intruder regret to have infringed on its territory. Ignis remembered enough of the area to know his best bet was to reach and climb one of the nearby rock formations. There was a small one to the south-east, but with his limited sense of direction it would be easy to miss. The northern one was much bigger but at least four hundred yards away. Ignis's estimation of his current location was sorely approximate. He didn’t have time to hesitate.

North, he decided.

He turned on the spot until the rising sun left a lukewarm kiss on his right temple. Good enough. Ignis started running. It was harder without the cane, but looking for it was out of the question. He fell down a couple of times, clenching his teeth when his injured arm protested the rough treatment. But he didn’t pause. The beast had seen him and was giving chase. Thankfully for him, it intermittently stopped to bellow, scratching the earth and throwing dust around with its horn. The posturing gave Ignis a few precious seconds. But it wasn’t quite enough.  
Another few steps and the monster closed in, hot breath blowing on his heels. He had no chance to outrun it, so he rolled to the side, hoping the change of direction would work to his advantage. The grandhorn was heavy and tumbling forward at high speed. Ignis's best bet was to use his agility to escape it. But agility without sight was at best a gamble, as he found out by plunging headfirst in a grove of thorny shrubs. He dropped to his stomach and crawled underneath, ignoring the barbs catching his clothes and scratching his skin. The monster tried to follow him but got entangled in the surprisingly strong branches. This was his chance. Ignis got back onto his feet and resumed his course at full speed. Less than ten steps away, his outstretched hand met a rock face.  
He thrust his daggers into the stone to create a makeshift ladder. Luck was still with him as his fingers found a recess high above his head. Getting to it with only one good arm was a struggle but he found a fortunate hold for one of his feet that allowed him to gather his strength and swing his other leg onto the platform. He had never been more thankful to have developed an acrobatic fighting style.  
Ignis pulled himself up in the small space, barely big enough for him to sit crosslegged, and nearly lost his balance as the grandhorn collided with the rock a bare meter underneath him. It was bawling, irate at being robbed of its quarry. The repeated battering made small stones bounce around Ignis, but the crag itself held steady.  
There was nothing to do now but wait for the beast to lose patience and go vent its anger on another less fortunate target. Ignis leant back against the rock, trying to get comfortable. He was in remarkably little pain, still riding the adrenaline rush. It wasn’t going to last but for now he was enjoying it. This was it. This was what he’d been missing. His head was clearer than it’d been in days.  
His body, on the other hand, wasn’t faring quite as well. His shirt was stiff with dried blood, some that was his own, some that had come from the sabertusks. Ignis tore away what was left of his sleeve and gently prodded his left arm. It was wet and warm, fresh blood still bubbling from the wound, but with no worrying pressure. A crushing bite was unlikely to lead to major blood loss but the lack of arterial bleeding was still reassuring. He laid his hand on his injured arm, not to apply pressure, but to feel the blood slowly flowing through his fingers.  
Laughter spilled from his chest, bright, loud and more than a little hysterical. The monster was still trashing the ground under him and he couldn’t have cared less.

He felt alive.

He didn’t try to calm down, but let relief and euphoria wash over him, only sobering up when the endorphin high subsided and pain rushed in to replace it, accompanied by darker thoughts. Willing or not, Ignis had to contemplate how thoroughly screwed up he’d become. He had almost been killed by a couple of pitiful sabertusks and was _happy_ about it. He had long known that the past few months had done a number on him, but he finally understood how difficult it would be for him to function without having to fight for his survival. To top it all, even if he’d wanted to emulate the life he’d led before joining their little road trip to hell, the option wasn’t on his table. His injury had made sure of that.

It took over an hour for the grandhorn to start grazing and eventually walk away. Ignis didn’t move when it did. His best bet was to wait until the sun reached the zenith. The accompanying heat meant fewer beasts on the prowl and a better chance for him to get back to Longwythe in one piece. He didn’t fancy his chances if he got into another fight with his injuries.  
When the rock got so hot he couldn’t stand the contact any longer, Ignis finally dropped back to the ground. He oriented himself as best he could and made his way back, walking at a steady pace, staying low in the long grasses. His cane was lost but he didn’t mind. If he got caught he could use it as an excuse for wandering off in the first place. He got disoriented looking for it and wild beasts took advantage. Oh, how wretched he was… Recent times had taught him that people didn’t pry when they pitied, and as much as he hated the idea, he’d never been one to dismiss a useful card if it found itself in his hand. He would have been a poor excuse for a strategist if he had.  
He missed Longwythe by about three hundred yards, but once he found the road following it was simple enough. The Crow’s Nest was animated, full of passing hunters and truckers bringing them donated supplies. Retreating from the sound of laughter and conversations, Ignis slipped in through the back door of the motel and made his way to his room without being spotted. He found a spare potion in the chest, drank half of it and poured the rest directly on his arm. Fire engulfed his flesh as liquid magic cauterised the wound, pain flaring anew more intensely than expected. Ignis stumbled to the bathroom and spent the next few minutes dry-heaving over the toilet bowl, grateful to not have eaten anything since lunch the previous day.  
When the burn finally receded, pain was still there persistent and all-encompassing, but duller. Ignis noted with satisfaction that his head was still remarkably clear. He found his phone on the bedside table, predictably out of battery. He plugged it in and dictated a text to Eva.

‘Sorry about not showing up this morning. I think I ate something bad. I’ll be back tomorrow, but let me know if you need me in the meantime.’

Gastrointestinal emergencies were another thing people refrained from prying into. He was safe from questions.

‘You got it, sir,’ his phone’s annoyingly robotic voice read a minute later. ‘Take care of yourself.’

There was one more message Ignis wanted to send. Gladiolus hadn’t called yet, probably thinking he shouldn’t push after what had happened. Ignis hesitated, wondering how much he should say to placate him while lessening his concerns.

‘Sorry about last night,’ he settled on. ‘I have things I need to sort out. Give me some time.’

Hopefully, Gladiolus would get the message and not call. Ignis wasn’t planning on answering if he did. He had nothing to say that would be helpful at this point and plenty that could make things worse.  
He ended up falling asleep in the shower, waking up sore and freezing. His wounds were beautifully clean. The punctures from the teeth still gaped open, deep and tender, but the bleeding had stopped. Ignis suspected his arm had started to turn interesting colours, considering how extensive the bruising felt.  
By morning, he could barely flex his fingers and he decided a visit to Hammerhead was in order. The medical supplies were stored there, in close proximity to the frontline. No-one would bat an eyelid if he took a couple of potions and he could use the trip to keep Noctis up to date with the state of their inventory. As long as he was careful, a long-sleeved shirt, a jacket and his usual gloves would adequately mask his injury.

Unsurprisingly, Tuck volunteered to drive him. The number of poor souls who thought they had a shot with Cindy never failed to amaze Ignis.

The meeting with Noctis was quick but productive. They agreed on requisition priorities and it was only when they were done that Noct veered off topic.

‘Thanks for the hard work, Iggy.’  
‘Only doing my part.’  
‘Still, you know you’re welcome to come back here anytime, right?’

There was an inflection in Noct’s voice Ignis couldn’t quite place. Uneasiness. Maybe reluctance. As if the words were only a cover for what he really wanted to say. Maybe Gladiolus was right, Ignis thought, maybe they missed him. But he couldn’t be who Noctis needed him to be and at this critical juncture, the King was in need of more support, not less. Making him believe that the loss of his usual adviser was but momentary was the right call.

‘I know that, Noct. But this is the best arrangement for now. And you’re handling your duty well. Have some faith in yourself.’

Praising Noctis was a reward in itself. The King spluttered and pretended to brush the words off, but his accomplishments made Ignis proud. Even if his contribution to Lucis’ future was over, the confidence he got Noctis to build on a shaky ground of grief and anger, meticulous piece by meticulous piece, would always be his crowning achievement.

‘I should go before the night falls. It’s getting better but it’s still not safe on the road after dark.’  
‘Of course. Come back soon.’  
‘I will. Keep up the good work, Your Majesty.’

Ignis got back to the van, leaning against it while Tuck finished unloading the supplies they’d brought. He should have been done by now if he hadn’t spent the first half hour shamelessly flirting with their best mechanic. Seeing Noctis had been harder than Ignis had anticipated. He’d missed him, he’d missed being there with him, watching history unfold. His eyes were burning again and he was rubbing at them when a bouncy step stopped by his side.

‘Iggy, I didn’t know you were coming!’ Prompto said. He paused, his tone losing his enthusiasm. ‘No offence, but you don’t look all that good. You’re okay?’  
‘It’s nothing. Just a headache,’ Ignis lied.

It was easy. His adrenaline rush of the previous day had bought him back some control at a rather heavy price. It felt good to be able to take liberties with the truth and know that no-one could tell.

‘When are you coming back to Hammerhead? It’s not the same without you.’  
‘Not for a while. And don’t even pretend to be missing me when you get to be around Cindy all day.’  
‘That’s unfair, Iggy. I can miss you and be happy about Cindy!’

Ignis smirked at the boast, but before he could answer Prompto let out an horrified gasp by his side.

‘What is it?’ Ignis asked, alarmed.  
‘Gladio’s back. He’s covered in blood.’

In the middle of the bustling activity of Hammerhead, a motorcycle engine got turned off. Ignis recognised the step walking towards them, but it was wrong, heavier than usual and uneven. Prompto pounced forward.

‘Gladio, shit, man. What happened?’  
‘It’s nothing. Most of it isn’t mine.’

Gladiolus sounded like his usual self and Ignis felt relief creep in, but he set his jaw and stood straight. He had no idea how bad things really were and ignorance was a state he didn’t like one bit. A vague but persistent whiff of guilt was swirling in his mind, but he pushed it back. This was not the time to indulge his despondent side.

‘Iggy.’

Gladio’s tone was cautiously neutral. Ignis hated the way it made his name sound, callous, almost alien. It was his own doing, but it still hurt.

‘Gladio. What did you do to your leg?’

He didn’t get an answer right away. Gladiolus was but a couple of steps away, unmoving, probably scrutinising him.

‘It’s just a scratch. What did you do to your arm?’

Damn the man to hell. Ignis had been holding himself perfectly. Nobody had noticed, not even when a young corporal had rammed into his bad side coming out of the briefing room. He’d dismissed him with a wave and a smile, and then had spent the next five minutes retying his shoes in a corridor, waiting for his head to stop spinning. But of course, Gladiolus would notice. Of fucking course. And Ignis had made a strategic faux pas by asking a question first. Asking a question was opening oneself for inquiry as well. Such a rudimentary mistake was beneath him and yet, his concern had gotten the better of him. Gladiolus hadn’t hesitated a second to take advantage.

‘Same thing, just a scratch.’  
‘Good.’

The air was tense. Prompto was on the side, audibly rocking on the balls of his feet. Ignis didn’t need his eyes to tell him their friend had noticed something was amiss.

‘I’m not having good coverage at the minute. So, if you need anything, just call Noct.’  
‘Right.’  
‘Gotta hit the shower. I’ll see you around.’

Ignis waited, listening to the sound of Gladio’s step fading away. It was still uneven but the injury didn’t seem to affect his speed. It couldn’t be that serious.

‘Are you guys okay?’ Prompto asked, not even trying to hide his concern.  
‘We’re fine. It’s just been a few tiring weeks.’  
‘If you say so.’

Prompto didn’t sound convinced. Ignis was saved from conjuring more half-truths when Tuck finally announced he was done with his work.

‘I need to go, Prompto. Night is falling.’  
‘Okay.’  
‘I’ll come back soon.’  
‘Make sure you do.’

Ignis hated hearing Prompto so dejected but there was little he could do to cheer him up. He sat in the passenger seat of the van, trying to concentrate on Tuck’s eternal rhapsodising about Cindy’s attributes. But it was futile. His mind was filled with hurt and the words Gladiolus hadn’t said but that Ignis had heard all the same.

‘Don’t call me.’

 


	2. Chapter 2

  * Thank you to [@1000needles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1000Needles/pseuds/1000Needles) for the feedback and amazing editing on this chapter too. 
  * Enjoy. ^ ^
  * Comments appreciated and welcome as always. 



 

 

*

 

 

It’d been over ten days. Ten days without a visit, without a call, or even a text. Ten days of his phone staying stubbornly silent.

Ignis wasn’t worried about Gladiolus. If anything had happened, Noctis and Prompto would have run to him. Still, it was the longest they’d gone without talking since Gladiolus had walked in on his training session all those years ago. Ignis had asked for some time, but the way Gladio had dismissed him in answer had been unexpected and hurtful. And maybe, this was it. Maybe Gladiolus had finally understood how much baggage he was dragging around. Maybe he had come to realise that Ignis wasn’t worth the trouble after all. More than anything else, that thought had stopped Ignis from reaching out. He’d turned his phone on so many times, setting it up to dictate a text, and then letting silence crawl around him until the synthetic voice asked him to repeat what he hadn’t even started to say. It wasn’t his place to impose on Gladiolus a burden he no longer wanted.

Ignis rested his forehead against his bedroom’s window. The glass was cool, soothing to his throbbing head. He could feel the edges of his scars where the cold became indistinct, still perceptible but shrouded. He was listening to the siren song of the wilderness outside.  
For the first few days after his little tussle with the sabertusks, he’d felt better, almost in control. He’d set up a more efficient requisition system from scratch, he’d had dinner with his coworkers a couple of times, and on one memorable occasion, he’d even managed to sleep for more than four consecutive hours. He’d also succeeded in keeping his interrogations about his relationship with Gladiolus on a tight leash, not allowing them to interfere with his daily work.

But no longer.

The past two days had found him back in the slump. Ignis’s energy was gone, his head hurt again, and he desperately wanted another adrenaline fix. It would only have taken a few steps outside to get back into the fray, to struggle again, to feel his blood pumping and to hear his mind throw quick and precise instructions. But his arm hadn’t recovered its full strength yet. He was still weakened and as much as he wanted the fight, the exercise was moot without a chance to win. This was about survival. A suicidal endeavour was the exact opposite of what he was trying to achieve.  
Ignis was perfectly aware his coping mechanism was foolish and dangerous. Indulging it was going to get him hurt again or killed. It was only a question of luck and time. Even if it didn’t, the craving would only get worse in the long run. He’d have to reach new extremes to satisfy it. But even when his mind had temporarily cleared, Ignis hadn’t managed to come up with a better solution. He would have to go along with his makeshift remedy until he figured something else out. If he ever could.

‘Soon,’ he said out loud. ’Soon.’

It was a promise to his withering self. But Ignis’s attention was forcefully pulled back into the room when the door opened, then closed without warning. It was done swiftly, the accompanying noise obscuring the step of whoever had come in. Ignis turned around, forcing himself to keep his pose relaxed, to hide the tension thrumming under his skin. His hands were half-opened, ready to close on the hilt of his daggers at a moment’s notice. Very few people would dare intrude on him like so.

‘I apologise for coming in without knocking, but I couldn’t risk you shutting me out.’

Gladiolus’s voice. A small part of Ignis’s brain - austere and withdrawn - noted that recognition didn’t quiet his nerves the way it used to. The words had been clear but distant. Gladio was still on the other side of the room, probably against the door, barring the exit. Uninvited and baleful wasn’t a combination that would ever get on Ignis’s good side. In the current circumstances, it was a dire mistake.

‘What do you want?’ he asked in a cold clipped tone.  
‘We need to talk.’  
‘No, we don’t.’

Ignis could hear the discomfort in Gladio’s voice. This wasn’t like him. Gladiolus wasn’t one to disrespect boundaries or to use his physical strength against his friends. And yet, if he had decided to stand in front of that door, Ignis might as well have tried to move a mountain. Gladiolus had to know his behaviour was threatening, that he was pushing Ignis in a corner leaving him with no escape routes, and yet he didn’t relent. That fact alone told Ignis he wouldn’t like where this was going. _This is it,_ he thought, _this is where we end_.  
He would let Gladiolus go. Gracefully. And then, weakened or not, he would go for a stroll and find a monster whose rage matched his own.

‘Yes, we do. And to start with, let’s agree you can’t keep going like this.’  
‘What? What are you talking about?’

The conversation wasn’t taking the turn Ignis’d expected.

‘Would you stop pretending for a goddamn minute?’ Gladiolus said, the words filled with frustration. ‘I don’t care if you lie to all of them out there, but don’t do this to me.’  
‘I’m fine.’

Ignis must have been losing his touch because the answer to his cool, impassive statement was a bark of laughter.

‘No, you’re not. And you’re getting worse.’  
‘And how would you know that?’  
‘Don’t give me that. You asked for time.’  
‘And I was perfectly fine with it. You’re the one who just decided to turn up, remember?’  
‘You’re not fine with any of it. I might have given you space, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t checking on you.’

Ignis’s heart skipped a beat as a dull, oppressive pain bloomed in his chest. He felt colour draining from his face. For months now, he’d been struggling with the uncertainty of what was happening around him, always worried he might not be as alone as he thought, that someone might be listening, watching him from a distance. Never being able to tell for sure kept him perpetually on edge. He woke up at night, drenched in cold sweat, imagining every sound he could not explain to be an uninvited guest he would have to fend off.  
But never, never had he expected Gladiolus to be the one to betray his trust. In a couple of steps Ignis was across the room. His fists closed around the lapels of Gladiolus’s jacket and he shoved him back, hard, against the door.

‘You fucking did what?’ Ignis asked through clenched teeth.

He wouldn’t have the upper hand in a physical confrontation, especially in his current condition, but Ignis had never been easy to intimidate. Gladiolus didn’t retaliate. His breath picked up, short and laboured, under Ignis’s grip, and he coughed a couple of times before being able to talk, obviously winded by the unexpected hit. Ignis hadn’t held back.

‘Easy there,’ Gladiolus finally managed, his tone rough but placating. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. I only meant I spoke to Eva…’

But his explanation got interrupted by a knock on the door.

‘Sir? Are you okay? I heard a loud noise.’

Tuck. His room was on the other side of the corridor. Of course, he’d have heard them. Ignis let go of Gladio, his hands falling back to his side.

‘Sir?’  
‘I’m fine, Tuck.’ Ignis said, raising his voice to be heard through the door. ‘I tripped. It’s nothing for you to worry about.’  
‘All right. Have a good evening, sir.’  
‘You too.’

They didn’t move until they heard the door closing across the hallway. Ignis stepped back then and sat on the bed. His hands were still shaking with anger. He passed them through his hair, willing himself to calm down. Gladiolus didn’t try to follow him.

‘Eva? Why would you be talking to Eva?’  
‘I know it was a shitty thing to do behind your back. But I was worried. I couldn’t just let it go. I’m sorry.’  
‘Wait. Back up.’ Ignis was getting confused. ‘When exactly did you talk to her?’  
‘Every night.’  
‘Every night?’  
‘Since I was here last, yes.’  
‘Why would you do that?’  
‘Didn’t you hear the part where I said I was worried about you?’  
‘Even so…’  
‘I wanted to give you the time you asked for. And it’s not like I told her to spy on you or anything. She offered to call to let me know how you were doing and I couldn’t bring myself to refuse.’  
‘You told her about us?’  
‘I didn’t have to. She…’ Gladiolus hesitated for an instant. ‘She was in the hallway when I left your room the other night. I’m afraid I didn’t have a great poker face.’

Ignis scowled. The more Gladiolus explained, the less things made sense.

‘I don’t get it. You could have called me.’  
‘You said you needed time.’  
‘It’s been eleven days.’  
‘You didn’t call, I assumed you were not ready.’  
‘You told me not to!’

The accusatory note in his voice made Ignis wince. Gladio pushed all the buttons he usually had no trouble ignoring.

‘What are you on about? I never said that.’  
‘You said I should call Noctis if I needed anything.’  
‘Yes, because I had poor signal. I didn’t mean you couldn’t call.’  
‘Poor signal? Gladio, find a better excuse. We’ve recovered six transmission towers, the coverage around here is better than in Lestallum.’  
‘Not where I was.’  
‘Is that so? And where was that?’  
‘I…’ Gladio started, before changing his mind. ‘I’ll get to that. This is not how I was planning on doing things. I was going to be prepared, to have everything sorted in my head so I could explain it all.’  
‘What in high heavens are you talking about?’  
‘I’ll explain. I just need to figure out the best way to go about it. I came tonight because Eva said you were back to avoiding everybody and she was worried.’  
‘I’m fine,’ Ignis repeated, automatically.  
‘Sure you are,’ Gladiolus answered, and Ignis could hear the sad smile in his tone. ‘I know it took me some time to see the truth. You’re so fucking good at hiding what’s going on inside that thick skull of yours. And I’m sorry for that, I should have realised sooner how bad it got, but I do now. So stop telling me you’re fine.’

The situation was getting out of hand and Ignis wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Gladiolus obviously didn’t believe him anymore, no matter how inscrutable he made sure to be. This was a problem he had never wanted to face.  
His mind was sluggish. Between the stark relief of hearing Gladiolus still cared, the battering his nerves had been submitted to and the lack of sleep of the previous nights, exhaustion was already getting the better of him. Ignis needed time to reflect on their conversation with a clear mind. But he didn’t have one of those, so for now, he sat straight and kept pretending. He couldn’t afford to break down again.  
For now, even if Gladio thought he knew how bad things were, Ignis still had a shot at convincing him the situation wasn’t quite as serious as he’d imagined. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he had to admit it was a fight he had no energy left for. If he could just buy himself a bit more time… A cynical, self-deprecating voice in his head laughed at the idea that time would help in any way. Ignis ignored it with practiced denial.

‘Believe what you like. Regardless, I’m not having this conversation,’ he said.  
‘I know you don’t want to. And yet, I’m asking you to.’

Fuck. That was playing dirty. Gladiolus was being purposefully confrontational. He was pushing, head on and unsubtle. But despite the lack of finesse, Ignis could recognise the tactic. It was fitting in a way that he finally got a taste of the medicine he’d subjected his friends to so many times, never allowing them to deflect or to run away from their problems.  
There was a key difference though. Trying to fight a master by using their own technique against them was suicidal. Gladiolus knew that. He knew this was a battle he had no chance of winning. And yet, he was betting Ignis would cave rather than fight him.  
For a moment, Ignis nearly shut him down. He could do this in a heartbeat, he could order Gladiolus to get out, he could accuse him of infantilising him, of making things harder for him by not letting him deal with his problems in his own way, he could manipulate him into feeling groundless shame that would force him out of the room of his own volition. He could hurt him enough to wrench himself free of this trap. It would be so goddamn easy, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Ignis rubbed at his face with a tired, defeated laugh. Gladiolus understood the hold he had on him better than he’d given him credit for.

‘Fine, you win. We’ll talk,’ Ignis conceded. ‘You have my word on that. Tomorrow, if you’re free. Just not now. I can’t do this now, Gladio. I’m tired.’

Gladiolus finally pushed himself from the door, apparently satisfied with the guarantee he’d just received, but instead of leaving he came a few steps closer. This was precisely what Ignis had wanted to avoid.

‘I know you are. And I also know that shutting yourself in this room hasn’t been helping.’

How could someone be so stubborn yet so gentle at the same time? Deep down, Ignis knew he should have found it infuriating. But he only felt numb.

‘Don’t make me do that now.’

He frowned at the pleading note in his voice. He hadn’t meant to sound as if he was begging, but he was quickly losing what little composure he had managed to save until now.

‘I wasn’t going to. We shouldn’t do this here, anyway. This is not a good place for you.’  
‘You think you got me all figured out, don’t you?’

There again. The resentment in his voice he hadn’t intended to show. When had he become such an open book? Ignis felt like a shadow of himself. It was fitting in a way. A shadow, lost in the dark with no boundaries or way out.

‘Stop it. You’re brooding and it’s not helping.’  
‘Now you tell me.’  
‘Ah, ah, sarcasm. That’s more like it.’

That brought a weak smile to Ignis’s lips. Gladiolus was probably the only person who enjoyed being the target of his trademark cynicism. But they were going nowhere fast.

‘You’re exhausting. Can we get whatever this is over with, please?’  
‘Sure. Grab your coat,’ Gladiolus said, as if he had suddenly made a decision. ‘You’re coming with me.’  
‘Am I? You seem very sure of yourself.’  
‘You’re not going to get any rest in here anyway, so what have you got to lose?’

As much as Ignis hated to admit it, Gladiolus had a point.

‘Where are we going?’  
‘You’ll see.’

Ignis scowled. He was in no mood for surprises. Gladiolus noticed his misstep right away.

‘It’ll be easier to explain it to you there. Trust me. Please.’  
‘You’re pushing your luck.’  
‘I know I am.’

The words were soft, and Ignis could hear the request in them. And once again, it was all it took to melt away his desire to fight. So he didn’t answer, simply stepped around Gladiolus to grab the coat he’d thrown on the armchair.  
The early evening air was chilly as they walked out of the motel. Ignis closed his jacket, nearly bumping into Gladiolus when he stopped abruptly.

‘I came with the motorcycle, but I can go borrow the van from the Crow’s Nest if you’d rather.’

Ignis had many memories of Gladiolus on his motorcycle. Not of the new one Cindy had found in some junk yard and whipped back into shape, but of the sport one he used to own in Insomnia. Ignis’d always thought that it served as a justification for all the leather Gladio liked to wear. And he looked so goddamn hot on it.  
Ignis remembered his name being whispered and a hand on his shoulder gently shaking him awake at an ungodly hour, the lips on his own that had made him think he was being taken for a different kind of ride. But then Gladiolus had pulled him out of bed and got him to dress up despite his protests. ‘I want to show you something,’ he’d said. Ignis remembered the motorcycle ride across a still sleeping Insomnia, the sky dark except for a pink tinge announcing the dawn in the distance, the ever present neon lights etched across the skyscrapers that always drowned out the stars. The clear autumn night had been colder than he’d expected, and Ignis’d put his gloved hands inside Gladiolus’s pockets and kept them there even as he held onto him. He’d felt a rumble of laughter against him, the noise lost in the wind as they sped up along the ring road. At that hour it’d taken them less than twenty minutes to get to the hilltop overlooking the city. And Gladiolus - the eternal romantic who never talked about love - had held onto him as they watched the sun rise. Ignis had grumbled about the cold on principle, but had sunk back into the embrace, sheltered and content. The light had taken its time stretching across the vault of the sky, capriciously morphing colours many times over. It’d been a beautiful sight.

Gladiolus turned towards him, and Ignis didn’t know what he saw painted on his features, but his voice was soft and warm - with a touch of sadness - when he spoke.

’I’ll get the van. It’ll only take a minute.’

Ignis knew all of Leide’s roads from years of driving Noctis around Lucis. It only took a couple of turns for him to figure out where they were going.

‘Balouve? That’s your idea of a less toxic place?’  
‘Surprisingly, yes. You’ll see.’

Gladiolus’s smile permeated his words, but he refused to give anything away. A few minutes later, they parked near the entrance of the mine.

‘Come on.’  
‘We’re not going in there, are we?’  
‘Actually, we are.’  
‘Gladio, this place is a monster nest. Surely, you remember.’  
‘Not anymore. I cleaned it up.’  
‘Come again?’  
‘You asked where I was. I was in there, hence the poor signal.’

This time, Ignis stopped dead in his tracks. He had so many questions.

‘What? What were you doing in there?’  
‘As I said, cleaning the place up.’  
‘You and whose hunters?’  
‘Just me. That’s why it took a while, I only finished two days ago. Noct did give me some fire spells though. They really helped with flushing out some of the stuff that lived down there. Trust me, you don’t want the details. It wasn’t pretty.’  
‘I still don’t get why you went through all that trouble. Or what we’re doing here for that matter.’  
‘And I’ll explain once we’ve settled down.’  
‘Down where?’  
‘Would you stop it with the questioning already? Just come.’

It was clear Ignis was not going to get answers until he complied, so he shrugged and followed. The lift was still as rickety as the first time they’d used it. Ignis’s glove got covered in fine rust powder as soon as he touched the wall, he could feel it spread like a soft velvet layer over the leather. The grating noise the contraption made as it plunged into the depths of the mine was loud and uncomfortable, swallowing all other sounds and leaving him disoriented.

‘This thing is a death trap,’ he said to fight back.  
‘I’ve checked the cables, they’re not in bad shape,’ Gladiolus replied, before his tone turned apologetic. ‘Sorry about the noise. I was going to grease the whole thing before bringing you here, but as I mentioned earlier, this is not exactly going the way I’d planned it.’  
‘And that’s why strategic planning is best left to professionals.’  
‘Condescending much?’

Ignis smirked at him in answer. The banter was cautious, somewhat forced. But while it was clear neither of their hearts were in it, their attempt at defusing the tense atmosphere was comforting. At least, they were both trying.  
They reached the deepest level and Gladiolus opened the screeching doors, but he didn’t follow Ignis when he stepped out. Instead he did something noisy and - if Ignis was perfectly honest - rather worrying to the lift controls.

‘Are you stranding us here?’  
‘Momentarily, yes. I don’t want us to be disturbed, so I’ve disconnected the power.’  
‘It’ll make it hard to be rescued if we get lost on that little expedition of yours.’

Gladiolus’s leather jacket rustled as he shrugged.

‘Privacy comes at a cost,’ he said, before walking in front of Ignis. ‘This way. It’s not far.’

It took about ten minutes of walking, one hand following the damp wall, in a succession of small and increasingly twisted galleries for Ignis to start disagreeing with that assessment. His new cane kept him upright on the uneven ground, but it still wasn’t his idea of an easy stroll. They took yet another turn into a new passageway.

‘You know,’ Ignis had to point out, ‘there are easier ways to get rid of a blind man than to lose him in an abandoned mine, miles underground.’  
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Gladiolus said with a small laugh. ‘We’re nearly there.’

This time, he was telling the truth. They covered another twenty meters before Gladiolus spoke again.

‘We’re here.’  
‘What’s “here”?’  
‘I was getting to that. We’re in a circular chamber at the end of the gallery. It’s drier than the rest of the mine, so I set up camp here. It’s about thirty feet across. The ceiling gets quite low by the far wall, be careful. There’s a camping chair to your left, have a seat.’

Ignis moved to find the chair and sit down, but he didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t scowling.

‘You took me all this way so we could go camping? That was your big secret?’  
‘Not exactly.’

Gladiolus was shuffling items around the open space. Ignis couldn’t quite figure out what he was doing. He waited, drumming his gloved fingers against his thigh. After a minute, Gladiolus came closer, and squatted or kneeled in front of him. Ignis wasn’t sure which but by the direction of his voice it was one or the other.

‘Give me your hand.’

Ignis complied, not having the faintest idea where all this was going. Gladiolus’s palm cupped his hand gently.

‘Okay. Here we go,’ Gladiolus whispered. Ignis had the distinct impression the words were not meant for him. Gladio sounded like he was psyching himself up to do something he hoped wasn’t a dreadful mistake. But before Ignis could pry further, there was a loud crackling of hard plastic getting crushed, the noise startling and ugly in the still air of the mine.

’What…’  
‘Here.’

Gladiolus deposited a crumpled object in his hand. Ignis had to prod at the debris for a while before he realised what they were. Gladiolus’s flashlight. Wrecked beyond repair.

‘What? Why would you…’  
‘Because you won’t relax otherwise.’

Gladiolus stood up, his step a little more hesitant than usual as he made his way to the nearby wall in the dark and sat against it. He took a moment to get comfortable.

‘You could have just turned it off,’ Ignis said, setting the debris down under his chair.  
’It wouldn’t have been the same. I needed you to know I can’t just turn it back on. Have you figured out what we’re doing here yet?’  
‘I’d guess it’s some kind of well-meaning intervention on your part.’  
‘You’re a cynical bastard. You know that, right? But you’re not exactly wrong.’  
‘Great. So what? You’re going to _fix_ me?’

The contempt in Ignis’s words was clear but Gladiolus didn’t rise to the bait.

‘No, I’m not. And by now, you know you’re not either. As hard as it is to admit, there’s no fixing this.’  
‘If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.’  
‘Maybe not. But at least, you’re not saying you’re fine anymore. That’s progress.’  
‘Is it though? You just admitted that none of this is going to make a difference, so what’s the point?’

Ignis’s nerves were getting the better of him. The effort he had to make to stay still was wearing him down. He stood up and went around the chamber, following the wall at first - avoiding the corner Gladiolus was sitting in, then exploring the open space. He felt cornered. Anger was bubbling to the surface of his mind and he struggled to keep it in check. Gladiolus only wanted to help but this wasn’t doing the trick.  
It only took Ignis moments to build a mental map of his surroundings: a couple of camping chairs, a sleeping bag in a corner, a few food and camping supplies in a recess. It was empty enough that he could pace, circling the room like a caged coeurl. The ease with which he was now becoming familiar with new locations was upsetting. It was only confirmation that yes, this was it, this was how he would handle everything from now on and his mind was done resisting it. The angry part of him didn’t want it to become easier, to become the new normal. None of this would ever be normal.  
Gladiolus stayed silent until it became clear that Ignis was aimlessly pacing around and not investigating the area anymore.

‘I get this is hard, and I’m not arrogant enough to think I can ever understand exactly how hard it is. But give me a chance, would you?’

He paused as if trying to find a way to express what he really wanted to say.

‘Stop fighting for a minute. We’re safe, Iggy. It’s just you and me. And I’m not the enemy here.’

The absurdity of the statement made Ignis still. He knew that. Of course, he knew that. And yet, the desperation with which he’d been pushing Gladiolus away told of another story. Ignis had never doubted his own actions, his motives and intentions always clear to him before he decided to do anything. But in the past few weeks, everything got so messed up.

‘I don’t know how to do this,’ he finally admitted.  
‘Then stop trying. I said I’d explain, so sit down or keep walking or whatever you need, but listen,’ Gladiolus said. ‘There’s tea in the backpack by the sleeping bag, if you want some.’  
‘Okay,’ Ignis said because it was the only option that still made any kind of sense.

He looked for the thermos flask, more to give himself something to do than because he wanted a drink. He poured a cup and sat on the thin sleeping bag. He could feel how cold the rock was under just a few layers of fabric, but he didn’t mind. Being in contact with the earth, solid and unmoving, helped him feel grounded. The edge that was always there taunting him retreated a little further, and Ignis took a slow breath. He wasn’t going to tumble off it just yet. Gladiolus’s voice was low and articulate, too serious to express its usual warmth.

‘After what happened the other night, I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty rattled. For many reasons, but mostly because I’d let you down. I didn’t have the first clue you’d been going through a hard time. I’d bought into your inventory story the way everybody else did when I really should have known better. However well crafted the reason, you talking about leaving Noctis when he was just getting to grip with his new responsibilities should have been a red flag. But I didn’t see it. And I’m sorry.’  
‘I wasn’t…’ Ignis interrupted himself, annoyed. He wasn’t used to having to find his words, but his usual eloquence escaped him. ‘I never wanted you to feel responsible for any of this.’  
‘Tough. You’re part of my life, Ignis. You can’t take that away.’  
‘Don’t call me that. You never call me that.’

Gladiolus chuckled from the other side of the chamber, obviously amused this was the part Ignis had chosen to focus on.

‘My apologies, Iggy.’  
‘Keep talking.’

Gladiolus had been right. Being lost in the dark but knowing it wasn’t just him, knowing there was and could be no light intruding on his privacy, knowing he was invisible to all eyes, was comforting. It still took a conscious effort for Ignis’s perpetual vigilance to ease off. His nerves were primed, tense, ready to react at the slightest sound, real or imagined. Lowering his guard felt unnatural and dangerous. But slowly, he started to relax, and listening to Gladiolus’s voice, the only sound in the perfect silence of the mine, he could admit to himself how much he’d missed him.

‘Anyway, you’d made pretty clear you were not going to talk. And forgive my hubris, but if you were not talking to me, you were not going to talk to anyone. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get out of my head how upset you’d been. Eva said she would tell me if anything happened, but it wasn’t good enough. I knew this wasn’t just going to go away. I wanted to do something, but I was worried I’d make matters worse and I… well, I ended up doing something rather stupid.’  
‘I’m not going to like this, am I?’  
‘Probably not,’ Gladiolus admitted. ‘I don’t want you to misunderstand though. I know how hypocritical it’s all going to sound, but I was at the end of my rope and it was the best I got.’

That was a feeling Ignis had been eerily familiar with of late. His curiosity was piqued.

‘Out with it.’  
‘Thanks for the support,’ Gladio deadpanned. ‘It means the world to me.’  
‘I’ve never been supportive of you doing stupid things, I don’t plan on starting now.’  
‘It’s comforting to know you’re still the same asshole despite everything.’  
‘And you’re still terrible at stalling.’  
‘Fine. I just wanted to try to understand a bit more what was going in your head, and although it was never going to be the same, anything that could help me imagine it better was worth a shot. Balouve was pretty much the darkest place I knew of, so I thought spending some time down here might give me some insight. As I said, I’m not pretending to know what you…’  
‘I got that, Gladio. The first time you said it.’  
‘Okay.’  
‘So what? That’s why you cleaned the whole mine? So you could sit in total darkness for a while?’

Ignis was missing something. Gladio’s story didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

‘No. We’re not there yet. At first, I just came down here and walked for a while. Then goblins got the jump on me.’  
‘Predictably.’  
‘Well, yes. And I didn’t fare well without light.’  
‘You tried to fight them in the dark?’  
‘As I said, it was a stupid idea. And I cowered out pretty quick. They’d got me on the floor in less than a minute and I had to switch my flashlight on to get rid of the lot.’  
‘That’s when you hurt your leg?’  
‘Yes, it was nothing. But the next two or three encounters didn’t go much better.’  
‘You kept going?’ Ignis asked, before muttering to himself. ‘Of course, you did.’  
‘For a while. I felt I was onto something.’

They both fell silent, waiting for the other to talk. Finally, Ignis had to ask.

‘And?’  
‘This is weird.’  
‘What is?’  
‘You should be lecturing me by now, about not being an idiot who rushes in and doesn’t think of the consequences.’

Ignis huffed at the accusation. He wasn’t that predictable. Or maybe he was. In truth, he had to bite his tongue to not have a go at Gladiolus. But sparing him now would serve as good ammunition if he ever found out about his little encounter with the sabertusks. Not that Ignis planned on telling him, but it never hurt to be prepared.

‘You seem to be doing a great job of lecturing yourself,’ he said instead.  
‘Fine, but this isn’t right.’  
‘Whatever. So what wonderful insight did you gain from trying to get yourself butchered? Repeatedly.’  
‘First, that fighting blind is pretty scary but I could have guessed that one. It was pretty much all I thought about to start with. How scary those fights must be… And they were, but it wasn’t the worse. Because every time it got too much, I could give up and turn my light on. And it’s going to sound stupid but I started to understand how much this didn’t compare to anything you’d been through. I’d thought about it before, but I couldn’t understand the breadth of it, not until I was there with my finger on the switch and I could imagine what it would be like to press it and have nothing change. It was terrifying.’

Ignis shivered. There were memories he avoided thinking about. In the first couple of weeks after Altissia, when he’d still hoped things were going to get better, he had woken up so many times startled and thinking the darkness around him was a bit more alive, that there were movement and hints of red swirling the abyss. He would grab his light and shield it in his hand before switching it on. He’d wait until he could feel the warmth of the bulb against his skin, so he’d know for sure that the light was working, that he hadn’t messed up, and then he’d take his hand away ever so slowly waiting for the glow to reach him, to prove him right, to make a difference. But it never did. And soon, the warmth only served to highlight the paralysing fear Ignis was fighting so hard to ignore. After three weeks, he’d hid his light in Gladio’s pack. He didn’t want it anymore but he wouldn’t throw it away when his friends could use a spare. Gladiolus couldn’t have missed it, but he hadn’t said anything.

‘I’m sorry to be talking about this, but it’s important if you want the whole explanation of why we’re here. You’re okay?’  
‘We’ve spent most of the evening establishing that I’m not,’ Ignis had to point out. ‘But I can take it. It’s nothing new. Keep going.’  
‘To be honest, all I could think of when I got out of there was how insanely brave you’d been. I had no idea how you pulled it off that whole time, when we were on the road to Niflheim, but after that experience, I just… All I wanted was to get to you and tell you how fucking amazing you are and how much we owe you.’

Ignis shook his head before remembering Gladio couldn’t see him.

‘It wasn’t anything special. I just did what I had to do.’  
‘You keep telling yourself that if you need to, but you’re wrong. It’s infuriating that you don’t have a clue how incredible you are.’

The words meant well, but Ignis tensed in response. He forced himself to resist it, to pry his teeth apart and make his jaw work. After the past weeks, he couldn’t bear hearing any of this. The dichotomy between who he’d been then and the struggling husk he was now was more than he could handle. Yet, he clenched his fists around the edge of the flimsy mattress and - in the first healthy decision he’d made in days - actually admitted to it.

‘Stop, Gladio. That I can’t take.’  
‘All right. We’ll leave that for now. So, as I went back to the surface, I got your text and after reading it, I went back to Hammerhead rather than dropping by to see you as I had originally planned. But you were there when I arrived, and I hadn’t expected that.’  
‘If it’s any consolation, you didn’t seem surprised. You didn’t seem anything really.’  
‘I was confused. I didn’t get it. After everything we’d been through, after you singlehandedly dragged our asses all the way to Gralea and back, why it’d be now, back in Lucis and victorious, that you would be struggling. And then I saw you and you were back to being all unreadable again, and I didn’t know what to make of it.’  
‘So… what? You went back to clear Balouve as a distraction?’  
‘Right conclusion, wrong motive. I went back to Balouve because after spending the whole night wondering “what would Iggy do if our roles were reversed?”, I was pretty convinced that I needed to sit you down and get you talking. It wasn’t going to happen without a safe space.’  
‘And so you rushed to the closest nest of monsters you could find. Sure. That makes sense.’  
‘Obviously, when you put it like that… But I had a good rationale for it.’  
‘Should be interesting. Let’s hear it.’  
‘Well, it’s isolated enough that nobody risks disturbing us and dark enough that your eyes won’t matter in here. In short, there’s nothing for you to be on your guard about.’

Ignis’s cynicism had to yield to the soundness of the arguments. Gladiolus had truly thought this through. Yet, as much as Ignis wished it would make a difference, it wasn’t going to change what was waiting for him on the outside.

‘I appreciate the gesture.’  
‘But you’re not convinced it’s going to help.’  
‘In your own words, “there’s no fixing this.”’  
‘So let’s not fix it.’  
‘Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that…’  
‘Be a sarcastic ass all you want, the truth is if we can’t fix it, we’ll have to work around it.’  
‘And how do we do that?’  
‘I have no idea.’  
‘Exactly.’  
‘It’s not my area of expertise. It’s yours. You’re the strategist, you figure it out.’

It took Ignis a moment to react. He’d been lulled into quiet contemplation by Gladio’s story and hadn’t expected the confrontation. His mindless anger - not quite as dormant as he’d thought - flared up at the words.

‘Just like that, eh?’ he asked, his tone cutting.  
‘Probably not. But it’d be good of you to at least try.’

Ignis’s laughter echoed ominous and humourless in the chamber. He couldn’t understand why Gladiolus would suddenly rile him up after trying so hard to get him to relax. Regardless of his reasons, Ignis couldn’t let the comment slide.

‘Try? Fuck you, Gladio. What exactly do you think I’ve been doing?’  
‘You tell me. You muddled about for a week and then you used your talent to find some bullshit excuse to run away. That’s not trying, Iggy. Not by your standards.’  
‘I went where I could be helpful.’  
‘You keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, Noctis is dealing with everything on his own, and as much as he tries to put on a brave face, he’s having a hard time.’  
‘Noct is doing fine and he’s not alone.’  
‘How would you know? Because you drop by once a week? No-one over there has any experience of government. Cor might have been on some of the Council meetings but he’s military, he was mostly waiting for orders. And all he can tell Noct is how things were done at Regis’s court. Every time he does, Noct looks a bit more dejected. Our King has no interest in turning into his father, but he has no idea what kind of sovereign he wants to be either. And I’m tired, Iggy. I’m tired of hearing him ask me “what would Ignis say?” and to have to tell him, I don’t have a clue because no-one knows, which is exactly why you’re not replaceable. And even if you were, you have more experience with government than the whole lot of them put together. So yes, I get it, it’s harsh after having come back alive from everything we’ve been through to not be done yet, but Noct needs you, Lucis needs you and you better start trying for real.’

Ignis felt stunned. There was a rage, a powerlessness in Gladiolus’s words that wasn’t directed at him but was genuine all the same.

‘Noctis asked that?’  
‘Many times. There’s no opinion he trusts more than yours, you should know that by now. He’s torn between respecting your wishes to be in Longwythe and wanting you to be by his side to support him. He’s trying to be all grown-up about it, because he’s not an idiot, he’s also realised that you were using that assignment to get some distance. But like I did, he assumes you need it and he wants to do right by you. And you might still be fooling him, but I’m not buying it anymore. Giving you time and space has not been helping you, pretty much the opposite. You’re not getting better, and we’re all suffering from it, so enough. We’ll have to find another way.’

Ignis’s anger receded like a long wave, breaking at the back of his mind into a low simmering pool, still present but aimless. He couldn’t fight Gladiolus’s raw emotions, but he couldn’t help him either. He was so fucking tired.

‘I wish it was that easy,’ he said.  
‘I never implied it’d be easy, Iggy. Of course, it won’t be easy. But we don’t expect it to be. You’re the only one who can tell us what you need. We’ll help but we need directions. That’s your job, so come back and get to it. You need information we’ll go get it. You need a book, I’ll fight my way through three quarters of Insomnia to get into the Royal Library and bring it back and then I’ll read it to you, cover to cover. You need a status report, Prompto will get pictures and he’ll sit with you all night if necessary to describe them until you see them clear as day in your head. You want to talk to Noctis in private before and after each and every council meeting, he’ll set time aside for that every goddamn day. We’ll all be happy to do it. Whatever it takes.’

Ignis sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He’d been worried it would come to that.

‘It’s a lovely sentiment, Gladio, but it’s ridiculous. We have neither the time nor the resources to compensate for my infirmity by going on an endless wild goose chase that might or might not end up with me saying a few helpful words to Noctis.’  
‘You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about helping you. This is about what’s best for the King and the Kingdom. You’re the best asset we have. There’s no-one else with your experience or intuition, so tough, you’re it. Stop resisting already. Our strength is yours, just be as smart about how you use it as you always are, and it’ll work out. I just know it will.’  
‘I don’t get a choice in the matter, I take it.’  
‘I’m afraid you don’t. You said earlier that you just did what you had to do after Altissia, well, sorry, it’s not quite over yet.’  
‘And what if, after all those efforts, my insights are not worth the trouble? What then?’  
‘First, I call bullshit. You still have the same infuriating and brilliant mind you always did. Nothing has changed in that respect, so there’s no reason to think the results will be any different. Second, stop it. Lacking confidence doesn’t suit you.’  
‘Are you calling me arrogant?’  
‘Hmm. Maybe a little bit. It’s hot when it’s you though.’

Ignis could hear the smile intertwined with the words. It was all it took for the distance between them to feel wrong and unnecessary.

‘Gladio. Come here.’

There was a shuffle in answer, but little else.

‘Are you sure? Don’t get me wrong, I want to. I do. But maybe we shouldn’t push it. I don’t mind giving you space. And I’m okay where I am. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to…’  
‘Gladiolus.’  
‘Yes?’  
‘You’re babbling.’  
‘Sorry.’  
‘Get your ass over here.’  
‘Okay.’

Gladio made his way across the chamber. His fingers touched Ignis’s hair, down to his shoulder, not in caress but to ascertain where he was. Their shoulders brushed when he sat down and Ignis was absurdly glad for the contact, the first that evening that had no other purpose behind it but companionship.

‘Well done,’ Ignis said softly, ‘for telling me exactly what I needed to hear.’  
‘I meant every word.’  
‘I know. How hard was it for you to say all that though?’  
‘Horrible. I don’t know how you do it. I honestly prefer to be on the receiving end.’

Ignis chuckled at the dejected tone, but he understood him well enough. Despite the muscles and the presence, Gladiolus was an empathetic listener. Confrontation with those he cared about wasn’t something he ever enjoyed.

‘Just remember,’ Gladio said, ‘if you can’t do it for Lucis, at least do it for me. So I don’t have to go through this ever again.’  
‘I’ll have to then, as a show of mercy.’

Ignis agreed because if Noctis needed him, he had no choice but to try. Yet, he still had no confidence in his ability to carry out his duties in his current condition. But he would try a while longer. He owed his friends that. He’d try until they came to realise exactly how limited his insights and abilities now were. Noctis would be able to delegate some of his powers and replace him little by little. It would be harder on Ignis but it’d be a smoother transition for Lucis. It was the right thing to do.  
Gladiolus shuffled closer, just enough for his thigh and his arm to be brushing Ignis’s. The contact wasn’t demanding, it was just there, persistent and supportive. Ignis heard him take his glove off as well, turning it aimlessly in his hand as he searched for words. When Gladio started talking again, his voice had returned to his natural warmth but with an underlining pensiveness he rarely liked to show. Ignis bowed his head and listened. Gladiolus was done being the voice of duty and reason. This was different. Ignis liked to think of it as being ‘Gladio talking to Iggy’. It was about nothing else but the two of them. And for the space of a private moment, Lucis could go to hell.

‘You know, when I was getting rid of the monsters down here, I thought a lot about what was going on, about why you were struggling and about all the advice you gave me in the past. I remembered you telling me that because I was raised to be Noctis’s Shield, I was valuing my own worth by the protection I could offer. And it got me thinking how the first time I ever saw you, you were in a valet uniform, and then you were the secretary for the Council, and after that Noct’s staff officer. All that time, when I was playing hide and seek with Iris and Noctis, when my Dad was forbidding me to do more than a hundred push-ups at once because I was still growing, when I was going to the arcade with my friends at the weekend, you were already serving the Crown. You never talk about it and I never wanted to pry, but it doesn’t seem fair what they did to you, taking you from your family because you were gifted and making you work in exchange for a special education that had no other purpose than to make you more useful in the long run anyway.  
But fair or not it did happen, and I also remember how you told me that we were who we were made to be. And I started to understand better what was going on, because in your case - and to stick to your figure of speech - you value your worth by your ability to serve. When we were on the road, even after Altissia, there was no-one else to keep us in line, so you just kept at it, stubborn and determined as always. But when we got back here, it was different. Suddenly, there were so many people around us, around Noctis, and as you struggled with your injury, you started to feel like you were dispensable. I mean, that’s the conclusion I reached, I’m sorry if I sound presumptuous assuming all that…’  
‘I’ve never really thought about it in those terms, but I can’t say you’re wrong,’ Ignis admitted. He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to say more, but Gladiolus had earned some candour. ‘I don’t really remember much about my life before I came to Insomnia. Bits and pieces. I’m not bitter about being taken into the gifted program, I don’t regret it. It’s just the way it went, I guess. Imagining anything else makes little sense to me. But I remember the caretaker at the Palace dormitories made us write letters to our families for the New Year. I hated it. I was too young to have many memories of my parents, I didn’t know what to say to them. But then the Empire swept over my hometown, and the caretaker told me I didn’t have to write letters anymore. I was happy about it, relieved. It took me a couple of years to understand what it meant.’  
‘Shit, Iggy…’  
‘It’s fine. All I mean is I didn’t have much to worry about except for the duties I was given. And Noct was such a handful, it kept me busy enough. So I guess you’re right, serving the Crown became the essence of who I am.’

Gladiolus sighed.

‘First, as soon as we’re out of here, I’ll get a dictionary and read you the definition of “fine”. You’ve been using it all wrong for the Six know how long. Second, it might be how it was, but it’s not anymore. I didn’t want to insist on that earlier because it would have derailed the point I was trying to make, but Iggy, it’s not just about Lucis and the King anymore. Noct, Prompto, you and I, we’ve built something together, we mean something unique to each other and not because Noct is the King. You’re not naive enough to believe it that. And I know we’ve always said that personal connections didn’t matter in the grand scheme of the war, but if our duty and our personal interests are aligned then please don’t forget it, we need you there with us. Prompto has been miserable since you left, he says everything feels wrong and out of balance because you’re not there. You know how sensitive he is. And Noctis is so lost. He threw everybody out of the Council meeting the other day. People were cowering right and left when I got back from Insomnia. I went to ask him what was wrong, and he said he couldn’t stand people agreeing with him anymore. He needs a friend by his side, Iggy, someone who understand the responsibilities he’s trying to come to grip with. I’ve tried to help, but there’s only so much I can do. He needs someone to tell him he’s wrong, and call him an idiot, and keep him right. He needs you. And I…’

Ignis could feel the tension in the line of Gladio’s body, subtle but indisputable through the tenuous contact they maintained. But after harbouring so many doubts about the state of their relationship in the past few days, Ignis wasn’t going to let him stop there.

‘Tell me.’  
‘I need you obviously,’ Gladiolus said with a small shrug. ’As much as they do. More actually. But it doesn’t even matter. Even if I didn’t, I’d want you there with me. Whatever happens next, it makes no sense to me unless you’re there. Sure, I can go through the motions, I can be Noctis’s Shield. But while it would be who I am, it wouldn’t give me what I want. I know you want this too, so stop being such a self-sacrificing idiot. You don’t have to be so incredibly strong, just to protect us anymore. None of us want that. Not when it’s tearing you apart. Face it, Iggy, you need us as much as we need you. So stop running and come back.’

Ignis swallowed the knot Gladio’s words had created in his throat. He breathed in, making sure his voice was steady enough to answer. But before he could, he realised something was wrong. He brought a hand to his face, fascinated, when the first tear rolled down. His eyes didn’t burn, but he blinked. The tears were still there. Gladiolus shifted against him. The back of a knuckle gently touched his cheek.

‘Iggy…’  
‘I didn’t…’ Ignis tried, too confused to even be annoyed when his voice broke down. ‘I didn’t think I could. After Altissia. My eyes were so dry. Always so dry, and…’  
‘Not anymore and that’s okay. Come here.’

Gladiolus’s arms were around him, pulling him close at first, then guiding him to lie on the too thin sleeping bag. Ignis didn’t resist. Part of his mind was watching the spiral unfold with child-like curiosity. _That’s never happened before,_ it thought, _I wonder how bad it’s going to get._  
Gladio held him, but he didn’t try to comfort him. He didn’t shush him or wipe his tears or rock him. Even if he could never fully comprehend the extent of the pain Ignis had buried so deep within him, he understood enough to know that small gestures of sympathy would be futile and belittling. So Gladiolus didn’t even try. Instead, he gave Ignis what he sorely needed. He became a solid, patient anchor in a crumbling world that stayed, stubbornly and forever, out of sight.  
More than anything else, that silent support stopped Ignis from trying - once again - to swallow back down the despair that threatened to choke him. So he let it go. He didn’t stop the tears or the breaths tearing through his lungs without rhythm or control. He cried. He grieved. He struggled through hardened feelings he had never before allowed to overcome him. They swept over him like a wave, swallowing rational thought and countenance. It hurt and it burnt and it was more than he could handle, and yet they kept rushing in. Out. He wasn’t sure anymore. He tried to stem the flow, to clench his teeth, his fists, to regain control. But it was useless, emotions he didn’t recognise lashed out and grabbed him, mindless of his will, brushing over his resolve and tumbling it like powder snow in a storm. Gladiolus’s chest raised slowly under his forehead, breaths steady, controlled. The arms around him, the hands on his arm and back were firm without being restrictive. They were cornerstones in a world that had ceased to make sense, mooring points holding him fast in the endless and ravenous abyss that threatened to devour him. There were memories and questions, and ‘what ifs’ escaping his grasp, dissolving into sobs to never take shape again. They peeled off slowly, revealing who was hiding underneath, and Ignis barely recognised himself. But there was no room for denial in the barren waste tumbling emotions had left behind, only exhaustion and more tears. He wasn’t sure how long it took before exhaustion won. But in the end, it was all that was left. He was so tired. So fucking tired. And as often of late, the divide between sleep and alertness wasn’t as sharp as it was supposed to be.

 

Ignis woke up disoriented, his limbs heavy and his mind vacant in a way he seldom experienced. And yet, there was no fear. The darkness was warm and welcoming, pulsing to a familiar and soothing rhythm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt rested and comfortable. It took a while for memories to clear. His discussion with Gladiolus lost in the abyss of the mines, his breakdown in his arms, and the following long hours of uninterrupted sleep he had so sorely needed. He pushed the interrogations and reflections back when they predictably tried to invade his mind. He didn’t want any of it. He wanted peace for a while longer. Just a while longer.  
Gladiolus was loose and relaxed against him, his breathing deep and slow, his arms holding him close even in the midst of sleep. His heartbeat was all Ignis could hear, steady, permeating through darkness to inhabit it and turn its unknown depths into a shelter. For a while, it was all his mind could focus on, until insidiously more carnal concerns slithered in. He could feel the ghost of hardness against his hip, trapped in leather. His own flesh twitched in sympathy and interest. He dismissed it for a moment, pausing to consider his options. He knew what he wanted, but their last attempt at intimacy had gone so spectacularly wrong, he couldn’t rush in. Putting either Gladiolus or himself through this again was out of the question. And yet, maybe this was the best place to give it another try. With the two of them lost in the same pitch black world, Ignis could let go of his eternal wariness and focus on nothing else but feeling and giving.  
Ignis took his gloves off, before tentatively palming Gladiolus’s cock through the fabric. There was a sharp intake of breath in answer and a reflexive push into his hand. If Gladiolus had been asleep, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Ignis didn’t let up, feeling the erection harden and swell under his fingers, beautifully responsive. Gladiolus swallowed, easily audible, before he spoke.

‘If you’re not going to follow through, that’s pretty cruel.’  
‘What if I want to?’  
‘Fuck, Iggy. What do you think? Knock yourself out.’  
‘That would be counterproductive.’  
‘Hush. You know what I mean.’  
‘Hm, hm. Sure I do.’

Ignis sat up, and stretched the muscles in his shoulders and back with a sigh, taking his time, knowing that even if Gladiolus couldn’t see him, his mind would fill the blanks well enough. Imagination wasn’t one of his weak points. But it would only go so far. Ignis nudged Gladiolus’s shoulder, encouraging him to fully roll on his back. He bent over him to undo the fastening of his pants. With his help he managed to drag them down to mid-thighs. It was all he needed for now. But Gladiolus stopped him before he could get to the heart of the matter.

‘Don’t overdo it. It’s fine if you want to stop.’  
‘You’re saying that now.  
‘I can always finish by myself.’  
‘You could. It wouldn’t be quite as good though.’  
‘It never is.’

But Ignis heard what Gladiolus meant. _I’d rather you stop than let it get so bad you have to push me away again._ After what had happened last time, it was a painful but essential message. Ignis found Gladio’s fingers, squeezed them in a silent assent, before leaning in. He kissed the jutting point of his hip, dragging his tongue across chiselled abs to nuzzle at his groin. Gladiolus’s smell was stronger there, muskier, the scent of tanned leather overtaking any other. Ignis’s fingers followed the curve of his cock, solid and familiar. He knew it as well, if not better, than his own, having spent many an evening in pleasant close quarters with it. He didn’t have to think. His tongue mapped the familiar paths of prominent veins, his fingertips followed the ridges and valleys of engorged tissue. It was pleasing and surprising, like drawing a long lost love from memory and achieving a perfect likeness. It wasn’t, however, what Gladiolus was craving. Ignis could feel the growing tension in his muscles, the minute shifts under his tongue silently begging for more every time he touched him, the shivers and goosebumps on the skin of his stomach when he brushed it with fleeting fingertips. But Gladiolus was keeping himself on a tight leash. Ignis realised fondly how much Gladio wanted to let him take and taste, wanted to give him whatever he needed, and he lasted a good while before frustration got the better of him.

‘Damn it, Iggy. I’m trying to be patient here, but would you please get on with it?’

Ignis didn’t answer, just chuckled. But he took pity on him and finally took him into his mouth. The shudder he got in response was gratifying and a testimony to how worked-up Gladiolus had become. Ignis applied himself, playing with speed and pressure, remembering exactly what made him tick. It’d been too long and neither of them had much patience left. A few short minutes passed, and Ignis had to hold Gladiolus’s hips down when he couldn’t keep still anymore. This was going to end soon if he didn’t let up.

‘Did you bring lube?’

Gladiolus let out a groan as he tried to get his muddled brain cells back in working order.

‘What? I… No, sorry,’ he mumbled, before pausing and adding, sounding more in control, ‘after last time, I didn’t want to assume…’  
‘Shh… Go back to your happy place.’

It was just as well. Ignis was further along than he let on. The sounds Gladiolus made, the feel of his inescapable downfall against his tongue, the intimate awareness that this was all his doing, it did things to him he couldn’t quite put in words but that he felt deep down in his core, right where lust grew and swirled, already threatening to overcome him. And this shared time together was about forgiving and reunion, it didn’t have to be complicated or drawn-out.  
So Ignis went back to it, and soon he had to replace his mouth with his hand to properly work Gladiolus as he bowed up into his grip, muscles tense, curses tumbling from his lips together with Ignis’s name, fists clenched into the sleeping bag. Ignis remembered what a beautiful sight Gladiolus was when he came, power and strength tensing into a coil that sprang at Ignis’s will. So much spirit and raw power at his mercy. He had thought the experience wouldn’t live up to his memories, not any more, but he’d been wrong. He could feel Gladiolus’s energy flowing under his control. In that moment, he was fully his. Lost in the dark, free from distraction, the visceral, raw nature of their connection felt as solid under his fingertips as Gladiolus’s body. And for the first time in weeks, that essential part of his life was no longer swayed by doubts. It pushed to the forefront of his mind, erasing all other concerns. For a few blessed moments, he thought of nothing, only revelled in sharp awareness. The smell of sweat and sex overpowering the humidity of the cave. The soft wordless pleas in his ears. The once velvet skin now slick with saliva under his fingers. The warmth flowing over his hand.  
When Gladiolus finally collapsed back onto the makeshift bed, panting, Ignis couldn’t wait anymore. He sat up straight, still straddling Gladio’s thighs, and opened up his pants. He choked at the first touch. But he only managed a couple of strokes before a hand closed on his wrist.

‘Wait. Let me.’

Gladiolus’s voice was still rough, but he was back to himself. Ignis let him flip them over, but he stopped Gladiolus when he tried to kiss his way down his body to return the favour.

‘Don’t bother. I’m so fucking close. I just need…’

He tried to get his hand back where he wanted it, only to have it batted away.

‘You need to lay back and enjoy.’

And Gladio’s fingers closed around him. It was bliss. And it was all it took. Ignis moaned, pushing himself up to grab onto Gladiolus, to lock his fingers in his hair and drag him down, to have him there with him, trying to kiss him but falling short when his world dissolved around him for a few moments filled with nothing but pleasure and the heat of skin so warm against his own. He slowly drifted back to full awareness. Gladiolus was waiting for him, peppering kisses on his brow, cheekbone, jaw, down to his lips. Ignis stopped him there, kissing him, slowly and thoroughly. Sometimes it was easier than words and Gladiolus always knew what he meant. Silent gratitude. Support. Love. It took a while to express them all. Gladiolus was smiling into the kiss before he raised himself just enough to talk.

‘Good morning, by the way.’  
‘Is it? Morning, I mean.’  
‘Honestly, I haven’t got the faintest idea. I assumed. It seemed to fit.’  
‘You didn’t plan this in much details, did you?’  
‘I was going to. But then I had to improvise before you kicked me out again.’  
‘Good insight. I nearly did.’  
‘I’m glad you didn’t.’  
‘Too late for me to have regrets now.’  
‘You’re an ass.’  
‘I just like to hear you complain about it.’  
‘Bastard. You’re lucky I missed you.’  
‘Yeah,’ Ignis said, his tone turning soft and serious. ‘I suppose I am.’

Gladiolus kissed him again. They had more to say, through touches of lips and fingertips and swallowed laughs. It took a rather long while for the conversation to resume.

‘So what’s the plan?’ Gladio asked, almost reluctantly.  
‘We should head back. Somebody is bound to notice we’re missing.’  
‘Unfortunately. Let me know if you want to go cave camping again. I’d be up for it.’  
‘Idiot,’ Ignis said, before adding softly. ‘I’ll think about it.’

They sat up with matching groans at the complaints of their backs and muscles. The ground had been a rather unforgiving companion. Ignis straightened up his clothes and put his gloves and glasses back on. He hesitated, but this was the best time to ask.

‘Would you…’  
‘Anything. Tell me.’

Ignis had to laugh at how keen Gladiolus sounded.

’I know you’re already spending your days gutting monsters, but would you spar with me once in a while? I think the adrenaline helps.’

There was a silence and Ignis knew Gladiolus had connected the dots. Damn him for being so quick-witted. The next words were cautious.

‘Your arm…’  
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’  
‘Okay,’ Gladiolus said, placating. ‘But sure, if you think it’ll help, we can do that.’  
‘Thank you.’

Packing the camp took a while. Ignis hadn’t helped set it up and had to figure out where things were before he could gather them. Gladiolus struggled to orient himself in complete darkness, painfully meeting with the low ceiling a couple of times. It was rather amusing.

‘Gladio, when we get back, let’s drop by Longwythe to get the motorcycle. I’ll let you give me a ride to Hammerhead.’

There was a slight pause before Ignis got an answer, so short he might not have noticed it before. But he was getting better at interpreting non-visual clues in conversations. _I caught him off guard,_ he thought, rather pleased with himself.

‘Sure, we can.’ Gladiolus replied half a second later. ‘I’ll give you all the rides you want.’  
‘Aren’t I lucky…’  
‘You started it. Don’t even try and pretend you weren’t flirting with me.’  
‘When am I not?’ Ignis deadpanned. ‘Still, a ride sounds nice after being cooped in here all night.’  
‘The Six have mercy, was the accommodation not to your liking?’  
‘The company made up for it.’  
‘Glad to hear it.’

Another ten minutes passed as they struggled to fit everything in the packs and investigated the ground, trying to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. A few more curses on Gladiolus’s part and they were ready to move.

‘You really didn’t bring another torch, did you?’

Ignis already knew the answer. Gladiolus never did anything by half.

‘I didn’t. I even left my phone in the van because it could be used as a flashlight.’  
‘Care to share how you plan to get back to the exit?’  
‘We both have a good sense of orientation. We’ll be fine..’  
‘You probably haven’t noticed but my mental acuity has been mildly compromised as of late.’  
‘Are you saying you don’t remember the way?’  
‘I’m saying we’re going to be in here for a while.’  
‘I can think of worse fates.’

And suddenly, Gladiolus was there in Ignis’s space. Strong hands cupped his face and gently pushed him against the nearest wall. The backpack dug in his back, but he didn’t care. The kiss made up for it.  
At this rate, finding the exit was really going to take them a while. It was just as well. As much as Gladiolus’s presence was helping his mood, it wasn’t in itself a solution to any of the issues he was still facing. Ignis was in no hurry to have to face the outside world again.


	3. Chapter 3

  * In case you missed the rating on this story, part of this chapter has very explicit content. You've been warned. ;)
  * Thank you to [@1000needles](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1000Needles/pseuds/1000Needles) for the feedback and lovely editing on this chapter too. 
  * Enjoy. ^ ^
  * Comments appreciated and welcome as always. 



 

* 

 

Ignis spun on his heels and fell into a defensive crouch, ready to spring away at a moment’s notice. His grip on his daggers was firm but loose enough that he could flip them if needed. Fighting was still uncomfortable, but he was starting to relax and recover long-honed reflexes. He was relearning to trust his balance and his instincts, to forgive clumsy mistakes and believe he could compensate for them. It was far from perfect, but it was progress.  
He kept still now, waiting. Patience was still one of his best assets, that hadn’t changed. Ignis wasn’t an adversary who could be baited. He would wait for as long as it took for the other party to make their move, more often than not the wrong one.  
Silence stretched and Ignis’s lips drew into a faint smile. He could play this game for as long as he needed to.

Finally, a bell rang to his right and he let the dagger fly, trusting his instinct. It met the wood with a satisfying crack.

‘Wow, Iggy. Good one,’ Prompto said, bouncing with excitement.  
‘How close is it?’  
‘Maybe three inches from the centre, it’s nearly a bullseye.’

Ignis nodded to himself, satisfied. It still felt wrong and dangerous to be throwing daggers around in his condition, but his aim had improved impressively fast. He’d been quite sceptical about the benefits when Prompto had offered to fit the targets they used to test handguns with bells so he could practice directional throws, but he’d been wrong. This was good, he felt more in control than he had in a while.

Gladiolus had left for Lestallum three days ago to organise the latest convoy of refugees and Ignis had been worried he wouldn’t cope well. They had been sparring almost every day since he’d come back to Hammerhead. Gladio had an uncanny ability to know when the difficulties he faced in his work got the better of him, when frustration started eating away at his willpower and sanity. The first week he’d stayed around, ready to drag him for a sparring session whenever he’d needed it - away from the camp’s prying eyes, and always before Ignis pushed himself over the edge in despair and self-loathing. Since then, Ignis had grown calmer, more self-possessed, more like himself. He could grit his teeth and keep the whispered doubts circling his mind at bay until Gladiolus came back from whatever expedition he was on. Gladio always let him fight him until he was completely worn out, no matter how tired he was himself.

Ignis had been surprised when Gladiolus had left with a brief ‘I’ll see you soon’ but little else. Considering how overprotective he’d been lately, he had expected a drawn-out and somewhat embarrassing discussion about Ignis not using any idiotic coping methods to distract himself when he was gone. Gladio hadn’t made him talk about his injured arm, but he was smart enough to have guessed the bulk of what had happened.  
Ignis’s perplexity had been short-lived, however, when Prompto had woken him up on the first morning after Gladiolus’s departure to drag him to target practice. ‘Sorry, Gladio made me swear we’d do this’ had been the consistent answer to all his objections. In all honesty, Ignis had been impressed at how well Prompto had stood his ground when faced with his barely awake and testy self. Noctis wasn’t the only one who’d been growing up.

During this third morning practice, they decided to step up their game by using ropes to ring two bells simultaneously. Despite the added difficulty of having to control two throws at once, Ignis only missed one target during the whole of their session. He was pretty pleased with his performance and had to admit the exercise was more enjoyable than he’d expected. Throws were not a move that would be safe in real combat unless he was sure to be alone with his enemies, but it had improved his spatial awareness tremendously.  
They’d kept at it for a couple of hours, Prompto working on trick shots when Ignis stopped to catch his breath. It was nice, companionable. Ignis had missed Prompto’s unique mix of enthusiasm and righteous naivety more than he’d realised. Being in contact with it again was energising.

Prompto soon had to return to the settlement. He was heading out with Cor’s men to take pictures for a comprehensive report on contaminated water in the southern boroughs of Insomnia. Ignis waved him off and stayed behind. The target range was far enough from Hammerhead that he would be able to think for a while, undisturbed.  
Besides, Noctis had been obviously exhausted the previous day and Ignis’d already decided to let the king sleep an extra couple of hours that morning. Managing the toll the crown was taking on his friend and monarch was part of his job. Like all tasks, he accomplished it with care and unparalleled meticulousness.

Ignis stood at the edge of the range and listened to the strident cries of cicadas awakening around him. The days were getting warmer still, making their sorties more difficult. The men were carrying heavy gear and supplies to protect themselves in the still mostly unsafe city. During the past few days several soldiers from the Crownguard and hunters had to be pulled off duty while they recovered from heatstroke. It was turning into a real problem. Night missions were better avoided if at all possible; daemons still roamed about. Ignis was pondering where to requisition some lighter high-quality equipment from when he heard a twig snapping behind him. He didn’t move, didn’t tense, but his attention returned fully to his surroundings.

It wasn’t a beast. The step was definitely human. A few more moments and he could hear another, no, two other steps, a bit further back. Three in total.

Nobody from the settlement would have approached him without calling out first. Something was wrong. Who were they? Looters? Maybe. But if they thought they’d made an easy target, he was going to have to disappoint them.

Ignis waited until the step was close, a couple of feet behind him. The person - whoever they were - obviously thought they hadn’t been detected yet. Ignis had kept his head bowed, as if lost in thought, meek and unthreatening.  
Approaching the confrontation without knowing the size of his opponent was a gamble. The step was light, but he knew how silent Gladiolus could be despite his size, so it was little help.

Another step, and one more. This was far enough. Ignis conjured his daggers and turned around with a quick and perfectly balanced twirl on his heel. His attack was swift and wide, an effort to gather intel rather than maim.

Metal met metal with a loud clang. Birds took off from the nearby bush, leaving behind a moment of perfect silence. No-one breathed.

‘Hello to you too, pretty boy,’ said a familiar and brazen voice.

Ignis took a step back, dropping his guard but keeping his daggers in his grip.

‘Aranea. What are you doing here?’  
‘Honestly? Looking for a job. The boys and I have been rather bored of late and it seems you could use the help.’  
‘For information, sneaking up on a prospective employer is not a tactic I’d recommend.’  
‘Well, I got the impression your friends over at the settlement wouldn’t exactly welcome us with open arms. I’d hoped you could do the introductions.’

Aranea had a point. The last time most of the Lucis forces had faced her, they’d been on different sides of the war. But things had changed since then. They wouldn’t have gotten to Gralea without her help. And frankly, Lucis could use all the competent people they could get.  
Ignis rubbed his face with a tired sigh. He didn’t like unforeseen complications.

‘Fine. But not all assignments will be glamorous and there will be no cherry-picking.’  
‘Yes, sir,’ she answered, her tone as irreverent as always.

It was good enough for now. Ignis would work on their manners later if he had time.

Unsurprisingly, as soon as they entered the settlement, Cor called on the guards. Explaining that he wasn’t an hostage and that he had actually accepted Aranea’s offer of service took all of Ignis’s diplomatic skills.  
Cor had faced Aranea in battle during the war. He remembered losing good men in those battles and was thoroughly unimpressed with the idea of working with the band of mercenaries.

‘They should be arrested and trialled for war crimes against the Crown,’ he insisted.  
‘I understand the sentiment, but this is not your call, Grand Marshal,’ Ignis said, making sure to use Cor’s new title as a subtle way of reminding him of his own.

Indeed, Cor might have been named commander in chief of the army by Noctis, but Ignis was no longer a simple adviser of the Prince’s House. He was the Crown Strategist and as such he outranked all military personnel regardless of their grade. While he valued Cor’s opinion, he was under no obligation to take it into account.

‘I will not work with those traitors.’  
‘Mercenaries,’ Aranea piped in.  
‘You will if His Majesty orders it,’ Ignis said.

But he already knew that they would have to find Aranea and her men assignments that wouldn’t clash with the soldiers’. It was unlikely the two groups would ever see eye to eye. The war had lasted too long and there’d been too much bad blood exchanged for forgiveness to be easy to come by.

What followed was two gruelling hours of negotiations between Cor, Noctis, Aranea and him to decide what the mercenaries would or would not be allowed to do. It was a hard bargain to conduct but Noctis had definitely benefited from the extra sleep Ignis had gifted him. He convinced Cor that they couldn’t afford to refuse the mercenaries’ help and shut down Aranea’s first outrageous remuneration demands with no prompting from Ignis. The King was a fast learner and his confidence was growing. Ignis’s presence allowed him to trust in his decisions, knowing council would be offered if he faltered.  
Despite all the difficulties and the frustration he encountered trying to fulfil his duty, the pride Ignis felt at Noctis’s progress justified his struggles. Lucis was about to live under its greatest king yet and nothing would have convinced Ignis otherwise. It was the one belief he held for which objectivity or logic was not required. His faith in his King was unwavering, precisely because Noctis took his role seriously. He meant well, admitted to his mistakes, listened and learnt.

After the meeting, Ignis returned to the caravan he was sharing with Gladiolus. Hammerhead was full to the brim with soldiers, engineers and volunteers. Space was a precious commodity that was getting more scarce with every new arrival. No-one had even blinked when he’d come back from Longwythe and they’d offered to bunk together. The quartermaster had given them a camping mattress to lay out on the floor at night. Ignis had tried to use it when he couldn’t sleep, when he’d woken up one too many times and worried about spoiling Gladio’s few hours of rest. His few attempts had all gone the same way. After a couple of minutes, a gruff sleepy voice had asked him if he was okay, before ordering him to get his ass back where it belonged. Apparently, his ass belonged in Gladiolus’s arms smushed together on a mattress that should have been too small for one grown man, let alone two. But they made it work.

It was the small moments that stayed with Ignis the most. Gladiolus coming in at night, exhausted, and leaning against him for a few quiet seconds, bowed forehead on his shoulder. ‘That’s better,’ he’d say when he finally straightened up. And it was. Ignis was realising that he didn’t need to see Gladiolus’s eyes on him to feel the weight of his affection.  
He made a cup of tea and sat on the narrow bench by the unfolded table as he’d been the other night. Another little memory he was fond of. Gladiolus hadn’t been just tired that time. He’d been dead on his feet and had stumbled back from the showers, dropped near him and tried to lean against Ignis’s shoulder. Instead, he’d slid down and ended up with this head in his lap. He’d been muttering about two-storey-high daemons and how nice Ignis’ fingers felt as they threaded through his still damp hair, then promptly fell asleep. And Ignis had set his jaw and let himself think about the dark and sensitive issues he usually kept under wrap. Gladio’s presence alone was never going to solve any of his problems, but it kept him balanced enough to face them, to stop him from going back to denial and spiralling out of control.

With Gladiolus always sent to fight monsters or protect refugees, the caravan was also a readily available private space for Ignis to use during the day. The ability to stop and think undisturbed, to reflect and link the data that threatened to overflow his mind, to make new decisions on his own was precious indeed.  
His solitude didn’t say undisturbed for long, however. Barely ten minutes after he’d settled inside with a can of Ebony, a knock on the door made him frown. He wasn’t expecting any visitors.

‘Come in,’ he said.

The door opened and his guest stepped into the caravan. The light metallic tap of the heels was easy to recognise.

‘Aranea,’ Ignis stood up to greet her. ‘Something I can help you with?’  
‘I wanted to thank you for your support earlier. We’d probably be in custody by now if it wasn’t for you.’  
‘You’re welcome,’ Ignis said mildly with a benevolent half-smile. ‘Make no mistake though, if you mess up or betray us, I will have your head.’  
‘Ooooh scary,’ she replied, never one to show weakness. But the underlying respect in her voice let Ignis know she got his message.  
‘Anything else?’  
‘Well, that depends…’ Aranea said, her voice dropping an octave, low and seductive. She stepped into his space. Ignis - never one to take a step back without a good reason - stood his ground. She leant in to whisper in his ear, her breasts brushing against him, firm and rounded. ‘I’ve had a lonely few months, pretty boy. What do you say you help me make up for it? Interested?’

Ignis hadn’t seen the offer coming, not even figuratively. But surprise wasn’t an emotion he showed easily. He smiled politely, pushing Aranea back with a light grip on her shoulders.

‘I’m flattered. Truly. But I’ve got this covered.’  
‘That’s just too bad. In that case, where’s your friend? Mr Muscly Muscleman?’

This time, it was Ignis who leant into Aranea’s space. He bowed his head just enough that she wouldn’t miss the harshness of his features. There were days when he missed glaring people down.

‘Back. Off,’ Ignis said, slow and articulate, making the threat subtle this time, yet unmistakable.  
‘Oh, I see.’ Aranea laughed with delight. ‘That’s what you meant when you said you got it covered.’

Ignis didn’t answer, but the lewd smirk he sent her made words superfluous.

‘Damn,’ she said. ‘You two should learn to share.’

Ignis was pretty sure there was a no-strings-attached offer for a threesome hidden in those words, but he had no plan to rise to the bait. As interesting as the idea might be, he and Gladiolus were still figuring out how to mend their fragile intimacy. Novel experiences were not what they needed at this point.

‘I’m going to have to lower my standards now,’ Aranea continued with a dramatic sigh.

Ignis shrugged. He had enough to worry about without having to take responsibility for the quality of Aranea’s leisure time.

‘Prompto could use an experienced hand,’ he offered.  
‘Prompto? The blond boy?’  
‘That’s the one.’  
‘Hmm,’ she said, apparently considering the idea. ‘He has energy. I’ll think about it.’

And just like that, she was gone, closing the door with a ‘see you around, pretty boy’. Ignis wondered for a second how much suffering he’d signed his friend up for, before waving the thought off. Prompto was old enough to look after himself and he had to get back to work.  
His only tool for now was a digital recorder. Gladiolus had made good on his promise to get to the Royal Library to get him what he needed. The area was still unsafe. It’d cost Gladio and his team a whole night on site and a combined total of forty-two stitches for a collection of eclectic, yet thankfully minor wounds. But they’d done it, they’d brought back the legal tomes he’d asked for. Ignis had gotten Eva transferred so she could make recordings of them for him. She was a dedicated subordinate and he liked her voice. As much as he hated thinking about it, she’d also come through for him when he really needed her to. Good, experienced people were on short supply and Ignis would be damned if he’d let her be snatched by anyone else. Besides, Gladio liked her. They read the same unapologetic romance crap he never wanted to hear about. And by letting them talk to each other, he didn’t have to. It was a truly inspired move.

But for now, Ignis had more pressing concerns. He spent the next two hours reviewing the texts of law, recording memos on his phone about the amendments he would need Noctis to sign. The Council and most of the government prior to the fall of Insomnia had been geared towards a war economy and the continuation of hostilities. This wouldn’t do anymore. Ignis wanted to give Noctis a fresh start, to build a unique organisation that would be able to tackle the rebuilding and relocation of refugees as efficiently as possible. It was a daunting task. He had to make sure that they were still following Lucis’s ancestral laws to respect traditions and ensure legitimacy while creating something new and daring. Finding people to do the jobs was the hard part. Enthusiasm and good will were everywhere, expertise and proven track records not so much. And yet, he and Noctis had to delegate some important tasks. They didn’t have enough hours in the day to do it all, particularly considering how long everything took Ignis without his eyes.  
But he worried still about putting power in the wrong hands. Incompetence could do as much damage as malice. So he was crafting in his mind failsafe after failsafe, to make sure people had to prove themselves before being confirmed for any post. He also had to be careful of Noctis’s public image. They couldn’t afford for the young king to appear conceited or indecisive.  
Ignis rubbed at his temples and opened a new can of Ebony. He had many ideas but explaining or discussing them without any material support was difficult. Noct applied himself and caught on quickly, but with the rest of the Council, communication was still a problem. He’d have to get Eva to come and help him again. She could type when he dictated. Prompto would also prove useful, he had a knack for turning ideas into helpful visual charts. And after some explanations, Ignis could use those for support. Working with materials he’d never seen but only imagined felt dangerous and sloppy, but that was all he had. For now, he had to make do.

The ghost of a migraine glided over his mind. It was early for it, but Ignis hadn’t been sleeping well. The first two nights hadn’t been too bad. He’d managed to turn around in the bed, burying his face in the pillow, seeking the smell of sunlight, just enough to hear Gladio’s voice telling him to stop fidgeting and go back to sleep every time he’d been startled awake. It’d worked. Mostly.  
The previous night on the other hand had been hell. The bed didn’t smell like anything anymore, the wind had come up and kept him awake all evening. By two am, he couldn’t stand the caravan any longer and went to wander around the settlement.  
Hammerhead had one advantage over Longwythe at night; Cindy was working and good company. Their precious mechanic was doing most of her repairs in the small hours of the night to make sure the vehicles were ready for the next day’s sorties into Insomnia. Despite the strain the asocial hours had to put on her, she was still as bubbly as always. She talked Ignis’s ear off about anything and everything without asking questions, but making him hold greasy tools for her. It was exactly what he’d needed. He’d waited for her to be done before reluctantly going back to his lodgings. He’d managed another forty minutes of sleep on the extra mattress - he didn’t want to use the bed anymore - before Prompto had dragged him to target practice.

Now, exhaustion was sinking its teeth in Ignis’s mind and with it came a score of unwanted thoughts. He couldn’t work anymore. He didn’t really think, just found himself sitting on the bed, his fingers smoothing the fabric over the pillow. He wanted to sleep, but he also knew that lying there was dangerous. Despair was a blanket too keen to settle over him, warm and familiar. All it’d take would be a moment of weakness. If he let himself fall, if he obeyed the voice in his mind pushing him to just lie down for just a little while… _It’s just a bed_ , it said. _You need the sleep. Yes, it’s lonely but you can handle it_. Except recent weeks had proven he couldn’t and he’d be damned if he’d let himself go back to distasteful acceptance.  
Ignis pushed himself up, grabbed his jacket and rushed out of the caravan. He had to get out when he still had the will. He walked around the field of tents for a while. The wind brought the huffs and groans of nearby beasts, curious of the increased human activity, but keeping just out of sight. He listened. The sounds reminded him of many a fight with his friends, not so ancient, good but somewhat bittersweet memories. He had too much to worry about to wish for another fight now. It was progress. Probably.

The dulcet tones of _Dear to the Heart_ suddenly filled the air and Ignis automatically rolled his eyes. Gladiolus stealing his phone and changing the ringtone before he left had been utterly predictable. Unfortunately, changing it back to something less obnoxious was beyond Ignis’s current abilities with the device. Asking for help had crossed his mind, but it would bring attention to their relationship and that wasn’t something he wanted to deal with at the moment. He would just have to plan his revenge. He was patient. Gladiolus wouldn’t see it coming.  
Ignis sat on the mudguard of a nearby trailer and took the call.

‘Hey.’  
‘Hey, Iggy.’  
‘How’s the travelling going?’  
‘Okay so far. The convoy’s pretty slow. I’m mostly bored waiting for something to happen, but I guess that’s a good thing. Unless we break down or pests decide to show up, I should be back in time for dinner.’  
‘Good.’  
‘Missed me, have you?’  
‘Yes. I’ve had to go get my own Ebony cans. It’s been a hassle.’  
’Damn, Iggy. Such sweet nothings, I’m blushing over here.’

They paused long enough to exchange quiet laughs.

‘You’ve been working all afternoon, haven’t you?’ Gladiolus said. ‘You sound tired.’

Tired… a nice friendly euphemism for frustrated and disheartened. But they understood each other well enough.

‘That’s why you called, isn’t it?’  
‘I thought it’d be about that time. How are you doing? You’re not allowed to answer with “fine”, “good” or “okay”.’  
‘Bossy much?’  
‘Guess where I learnt it. Also stop deflecting.’  
‘I’m…’ Ignis hesitated for an instant, thinking back on the dangerous appeal of the bed, on stepping outside to get away from it, ‘coping.’  
‘Coping is good, Iggy. Take it one step at a time.’  
‘I’ll do my best.’  
‘You always do. Keep at it.’ Gladiolus said, before pausing to listen to whatever was going on near him. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go.’  
‘See you tonight.’  
‘Count on it.’

Ignis walked back to the amenities. It was too soon to go back to the caravan. Too risky. And with Noctis away to inspect the recently secured boroughs, he had little choice to occupy himself except to continue wandering around. The smell caught his attention first. An appetising, rich and spicy smell that had invaded most of the settlement. Probably a stew, if Ignis had had to guess, but the fine, crafted kind. He didn’t ponder the wisdom of his decision, only followed the aroma like a hound. Predictably, it was coming from the kitchen. The day was warm and the back door had been left open. Takka was singing cheerfully in a booming, yet tuneful, voice.

 _‘Ah, My Lord, I won’t roast a chocobo._  
_No, I will never roast a chocobo._  
_Neither for jewels nor for mercy,_  
_Nor for the maiden most lovely,_  
_My Lord, I won’t roast a chocobo.’_

The tune made Ignis smile. The _Ode to Chocobos_ was a popular kitchen song in Lucis. He knew it well and hearing it again brought back many memories of happier times. It would have been painful if the liveliness of the tune hadn’t been an efficient deterrent to the darkness of his thoughts. He walked to the back door and leant against it, listening.

 _‘Gifted they were by the Sweet Mother,_  
_To cross ice, water and wildfire,_  
_Most precious of Shiva’s dowry_  
_Plumage, heart and amity,_  
_Faithful in odds most dire.’_

And as the tune roused up to the chorus, Ignis found himself joining in without much thought. It was the kind of rhythm that drew one in.

 _‘Ah, My Lord, I won’t roast a chocobo._  
_No, I will never roast a chocobo._  
_Neither for jewels nor for mercy,_  
_Nor for the maiden most lovely,_  
_My Lord, I won’t roast a chocobo.’_

‘You have a good voice on you, son,’ Takka said enthusiastically. ‘Come on, the next verse’s yours.’

Ignis didn’t have the heart to refuse. He stepped inside the kitchen.

 _‘The Sweet Mother’s words remain_  
_From feathered flesh must abstain_  
_Green by green I strengthened our tie,_  
_Shared dreams brought to fly,_  
_Recall them til we meet again.’_

Takka joined in again, chopping away at his vegetables in beat with the song.

 _‘Ah, My Lord, I won’t roast a chocobo._  
_No, I will never roast a chocobo._  
_Neither for jewels nor for mercy,_  
_Nor for the maiden most lovely,_  
_My Lord, I won’t roast a chocobo.’_

As the chorus finished, Takka dropped something in the pan. Loud sizzling filled the returning silence.

‘Ah, that was good heartwarming singing! What can I do for you? Peckish?’  
‘Not for now, thank you,’ Ignis answered. ‘I was just wondering what you were cooking. It smells wonderful.’  
‘Kujata creamy stew. A bit odd, but I have to improvise with what the hunters bring back. Something’s not quite right though. Come here, you’re going to taste this for me.’

Ignis hesitated but he could find no good reason to refuse. After all, he was the one intruding. He came closer and accepted the spoon Takka placed in his hand. The food was lovely, the meat cooked to perfection, crumbling into succulent flakes, the sauce rich without being unrefined.

‘This is gorgeous,’ Ignis approved. ‘Maybe…’  
‘Maybe? Go on, don’t be shy.’  
‘A touch of raw wild garlic once it’s done cooking? It would give it a bit of a kick without being overpowering.’  
‘Hmm. I like how you think, son. I’ll give that a go.’

Takka went back to chopping some hard vegetables, and Ignis sat on the bench by the heavy wooden table in the centre of the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t leaving. Maybe because it was the first time in months that walking into a kitchen hadn’t turned his stomach, maybe because going back to the caravan on his own would be worse. It didn’t really matter. He sat there for long minutes, listening to Takka sing _All the Pearls of Accordo_ , to stop himself from overthinking. But a bowl thrust in his hands interrupted his brooding.

‘Since you’re here, you might as well mix this for me.’

The wooden spoon was smooth, well-worn, under his fingers. A good tool. One that his hands wanted to use before Ignis had given them permission. The mixture was thick but flowing. He leant in to smell it, recognition arising without difficulty.

‘That’s chiffon cake batter.’  
‘Impressive nose. It is, indeed. His Majesty requested it.’  
‘He did?’  
‘In person. He must really like it.’

Ignis paused. Because Noctis didn’t. He found the cake too bland, the subtle flavours lost on him. No, the delicate airy confection was a favourite of his own. Ignis swallowed and smiled - just a hint - to himself, touched that in the middle of all the new challenges and underneath the stubbornness and the sullen temper, Noctis was as caring as always. Ignis would have to thank him. Because words did matter and because Noctis getting embarrassed was always amusing.  
Mixing the batter was easy enough. Enjoyable even. But Takka wasn’t done with him. He took the bowl away and set a couple of items in front of Ignis.

‘Thanks. Now chop the carrots. Chunky slices are fine.’

Takka went back to the cooker without giving him time to protest. Ignis’s fingertips brushed the handle of the knife. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t… couldn’t… He knew how ridiculous it sounded. And yet, holding that knife was a bigger obstacle than target practice with daggers. Not being defenceless was an imperative, he couldn’t stay a burden. But this - the safety of the kitchen, the familiar weight of a sharpened knife, the odorous mix of herbs and sweets - he’d accepted this shelter wasn’t his anymore. Pretending it could be again was dangerous.  
And yet, beyond the unease and the doubts, Ignis knew he was making excuses. The truth was that knife was there for him to take, and it was not a question of whether he could or should, but only whether he would. The fear that paralysed him was hard to define but he understood it well enough. As damaging as it was, believing something to be beyond his abilities would never be as painful as attempting it and seeing his ineptitude confirmed. It wasn’t about chopping a few carrots. This was easy enough. It was about daring to reenter a world that was going to test his limits at every turn, until he’d meet the wall he was inevitably going to crash into. _Good try_ , the insurmountable barrier would say, _but this is it for you now. Stop struggling and accept it._  
Ignis sat, immobile. Waiting for the will to give up or to give in. He could take the knife, or he could get up and leave. Indecision felt foreign and cutting; it wasn’t a feeling he was used to experiencing. He thought back on what Gladio’d said. ‘One step at a time.’ Maybe this was it. If he couldn’t decide for himself then he’d have to trust in those words. Instead of focusing on future failures, tackling one task right now could be enough. To an analytical and projecting mind like his, it felt incredibly reckless. But it was also a way forward and Ignis needed one of those now more than ever.  
And so, barely breathing, he gripped the knife. The work was painstakingly slow and careful. His usual knife tricks and flourishes were a world apart. But it didn’t matter. Jaw set, back straight, Ignis chopped carrot after carrot. Takka brought him more, then parsnips and squash. Afterwards, they sat at the table together peeling potatoes and apples while Takka made him sing _The Little Naked Cactuar_. And Ignis went along with it all.

One step at a time.

Over three hours had passed before Takka washed his hands and took off his apron.

‘That’s it for today. I’m going to have a break before serving dinner. You should go rest too. And leave all that, I’ll tidy it later.’  
‘All right,’ Ignis said, getting up and brushing vegetable peels off his jacket.

He felt calmer, calm enough to finally go back to the caravan and wait for Gladiolus to arrive.

‘Son,’ Takka called before Ignis reached the door. ‘You come back any time you need. You hear me?’  
‘Thank you,’ Ignis said, wishing the words didn’t sound so shallow. ‘I appreciate it.’  
‘My door’s always open. Just for you, mind you. Don’t you go tell all those food thieves out there about it.’  
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

A real kitchen was a sacred space that only a select few were allowed to share. Ignis would always do his utmost to protect it.

He was nearly back to the caravan when a familiar step made him turn around.

‘Eva.’  
’Sir, I was looking for you.’  
‘Everything all right?’  
‘Yes, sir. His Majesty asked me to give you this,’ she said placing a small memory chip in his palm. ‘He’s recorded his impressions on the trip today.’  
‘I see. Thank you.’  
‘Oh also, if it’s not too much bother, could you give this to Gladiolus?’ Eva said, since there was only so much ridiculous gushing about romantic subplots two people could get through without being on a first name basis. She handed him a book.  
‘Of course.’

He’d hoped that’d be the end of it, but to his dismay was soon proven wrong.

‘He’s going to love this one. Tell him he owes me. It has everything. Magic gone rogue, knights, a possessed crown, and a slave becoming lover intrigue. It’s perfect. Oh and flower people, there are flower people, it’s…’  
‘I’m sure he’d rather I don’t spoil it for him.’  
‘Oh. I guess you’re right. Sorry, sir. I shouldn’t babble so much. I have to run. Thank you, sir.’  
‘You’re welcome.’

Ignis heard her disappear in the distance - as energetic as ever, put the book under his arm and went inside the caravan, shaking his head in despair.

Flower people…

He opened a can of Ebony and set the chip inside the audio recorder. He wanted to be familiar with Noctis’s reflections by morning so they could discuss them before the Council Meeting.  
The beginning was a succession of descriptive comments about the extent of the destruction in the suburbs and complaints about boredom. Noct hadn’t gone far that day. With Gladiolus away, Ignis had forbidden him to push beyond the parts of the city that were completely secured. Cor’s men were perfectly able to protect the King from looters and a few monsters during the daytime, but traditions were important, even more so in a country as deeply wounded as Lucis was. And the King was not to venture into danger without his Shield. Besides, Gladiolus had only accepted his escort mission on the express promise that Noctis would be kept safe.  
Ignis already knew most of what Noct was saying from hunters’ verbal reports. It wasn’t until he got past the first hour of the recording that the tone changed. Dejection started inhabiting the words, subtle at first, but Ignis knew Noctis probably better than the man knew himself. He frowned, his whole attention on the King’s voice. Soon the words themselves became messengers of discouragement.

‘We’ve reached the residential hills in the South, Iggy. I can see all over the rest of the city from here. I can even see the roof of the Palace with the binoculars, but it’s so far… And I thought we’d made some good progress those past few weeks, but from here… Insomnia is just a field of ruins, as far as the eye can see. I don’t know how we’re going to do this. It’s going to take years.’

There was an audible sigh as Noct paused. Ignis was starting to understand why he’d sent Eva to bring him the recording. He probably hadn’t wanted to talk yet.

‘Every time I meet new people, they tell me “Your Majesty, when will we be allowed to go home?”, and I tell them “Soon. We’re working on it.” because that’s the best I’ve got. But Iggy, I’ve been lying to them. They trust me, and I’ve lied. What can I say to them instead though? I read the reports, I thought I knew what we were up against, but seeing it like that…’

Ignis paused the recording again and grabbed his phone. He used the speed dial function and listen to it ring a couple of times.

‘Hey, Iggy.’  
‘Prompto, do me a favour, go find Noct.’  
‘Sure can. Why? Is he okay?’  
‘He’s probably brooding. Drag him to dinner, then get him to play some King’s Knight or go watch a movie with the Crownsguards in the main barrack, or whatever else can keep him occupied. Just don’t take “no” for an answer.’  
‘I’ll do my best.’  
‘Tell him I’ll talk to him in the morning and that for tonight he needs to relax, sleep and stop thinking.’  
‘What if he gets difficult?’

Ignis sighed. He didn’t like crude threats but sometimes there was no other choice.

‘If you have to - and only if you have to - tell him I know about the cake. If he doesn’t do as I say, I will make sure to thank his ass in front of the entire army in the morning.’  
‘What? What cake?’  
‘Don’t worry, he’ll know.’

His immediate concerns taken care of, Ignis kept listening to Noctis’s report to figure out exactly what he’d say to him in the morning. He’d need to provide reassurance and motivation while not belittling the scope of the task they were facing. Noctis would be brave. He always was. But the Crown was a difficult burden to bear for any inexperienced monarch, and adding to that the current state of the kingdom, he had to be careful Noct didn’t push himself too far. The last thing they needed was for their King to lose faith in himself. By the time the door of the caravan opened and a familiar step climbed in, Ignis sorely needed the distraction.

‘Welcome back.’

His only answer was a couple of gentle fingers tilting his chin up and soft lips on his own. The kiss wasn’t exactly chaste but didn’t last long enough to become heated.

‘And hello to you too.’  
‘It’s good to be back,’ Gladio said. ‘And you shouldn’t be drinking coffee this late.’  
‘It’s been a while. The taste lingers.’  
’Still late.’  
‘Have you come back just to lecture me?’  
‘You haven’t been paying attention if that’s what you’re thinking.’  
‘I guess you’ll have to explain it again then.’

Riling Gladiolus up was always enjoyable. Ignis wasn’t planning to stop. Not when it got him kissed like that. Deeply and thoroughly and with all pretence at decency thrown out.

‘There.’  
‘See. You just had to put some effort into it.’

Gladiolus sniggered in response, before going to rummage in his pack.

‘I got you something in Lestallum.’

Gladiolus placed a heavy item in Ignis’s lap. A thick leather-bound volume. Even blind, Ignis could manage a mean - if approximate - blank stare.

‘Don’t give me that. It’s _Feud and Truce_. I thought I could read it to you when you can’t sleep.’  
‘I see. That makes more sense.’

Ignis stroked the soft cover. _Feud and Truce_ was his favourite novel and a masterpiece of classic literature. It was a complex intricacy of clashing empires, behind-the-scene politics, crafted assassination plots, long-lost heirs, complete with a smuggled testament and a couple of large-scale battles described in excruciating and brilliant details. And it was there in his hands, heavy and purposeless. It struck him that without Gladio’s words Ignis wouldn’t even know what he was holding.  
Fingers gently threaded through his on top of the book.

‘Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all.’

Gladio sounded disappointed, but also apologetic, and guilt brought Ignis back to the moment. He’d been wallowing in self-pity again, forgetting about Gladiolus’s uncanny ability to read him.

‘No, it was. It’s a thoughtful gift. It just brings back memories. Thank you, Gladio.’  
‘You’re welcome,’ Gladiolus said, before adding cheekily in an effort to lift up the mood, ‘am I getting a kiss for my troubles?’

Ignis only smiled and obliged. But he couldn’t help himself from leaning in afterwards to whisper in Gladiolus’s ear.

‘You could be more ambitious, you know.’  
‘Why? Can I get a blow job?’

Ignis pushed him back.

‘Too late. You missed your chance.’  
‘Damn. Then can I get one once I’ve finished reading that monstrosity to you?’

Ignis pretended to ponder this for a moment.

‘Sure. It’s fair to say you’ll have earned it by then.’  
‘It’s a deal then.’

Ignis stayed where he was sitting, listening to Gladiolus unpacking and putting things away. It didn’t take long. When he was done, Gladio came to sit near him, close but quiet. Ignis lasted a whole two minutes before he gave up and dropped his head on his shoulder. Fingers threaded through his hair but Gladiolus still didn’t say anything. It was nice, and it took a long while before Ignis felt like talking. But when he did, the space was there comfortable and open, waiting on him.

‘Noct’s a bit down and I’ve sent Prompto to tell him to stop thinking.’

Predictably, the statement made Gladiolus laugh.

‘I do realise the hypocrisy of it… but I had little choice.’  
‘Sending Prompto was smart, he’ll be a good distraction. Really, you sent the cure with the order.’  
‘And blackmail.’  
‘I’m sorry, what?’  
‘Just in case the cure and the order weren’t enough. One must be prepared for all eventualities.’  
‘Iggy, no offence, but one day blackmailing the king will get you in trouble.’  
‘If blackmail gets you in trouble, you’re not doing it right.’  
‘You’re unbelievable.’  
‘Thank you.’  
‘It wasn’t exactly a compliment.’  
‘Of course, it was.’  
‘Yeah, okay, but it shouldn’t have been. So what did you do? Threatened the Regalia’s virtue or something?’  
‘Nothing quite so crude, no. His Majesty got the cook to bake me a cake. I thought I should thank him in private, but then I suggested it could also happen very much not in private.’  
‘Oh dear, he hates being put on the spot, especially in public.’  
‘Precisely.’  
‘How did you learn he ordered the cake?’  
‘I have my sources.’  
‘Iggy…’  
‘Fine. I was in the restaurant kitchen earlier and Takka told me.’  
‘You went there?’

Gladiolus’s tone was cautiously prodding. Ignis nodded against his shoulder but didn’t elaborate.

‘How did it go?’

Ignis hesitated, trying to find the words that would adequately answer that question. It took a while, with more hesitations, interruptions and backtracking, but Gladiolus was content to wait as long as he kept talking. He’d taken Ignis’s hand in his own, firmly holding it in a quiet show of support.

‘You should make some time to spend there,’ Gladiolus said in the end. ‘It’ll be good for you.’

Ignis hadn’t really wanted to think about what he was going to do until that point, how much he was ready to risk, but he hummed softly.

‘I’ll try.’  
‘Good. Speaking of, we should go if we don’t want to miss dinner.’  
‘You go, I’m going to hit the showers. And before you start telling me off, I ate earlier.’

Takka had made them sandwiches in the middle of their peeling marathon. Cured meat, capers, and sun-dried tomatoes on rye bread. It’d been nice and filling. Besides, Ignis had enough on his mind without having to deal with the overpopulated catering tent. He’d avoided thinking about his plans for the evening all day, but it wasn’t an option any longer. He needed time alone to get ready and find the required mental fortitude.  
Gladiolus didn’t answer right away. He could probably feel that something was amiss but decided not to push.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a quick shower too before I come back. I won’t be long.’  
‘Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.’  
‘You better not. I’ve had three very lonely nights.’  
‘I had the bed all to myself. It was great.’  
‘Now, you’re lying.’

Ignis smirked but didn’t deny it. Gladiolus wouldn’t have believed him anyway.

The showers were empty when he got there, everybody still scrambling to the main tent to get food. Ignis took his time, letting water cascade over him. The sound was clear and calming. He used it to focus his mind, to quench the doubts. He needed to feel in control, centred, if he was going to convince Gladiolus to go along with his idea. The experience would be taxing but he needed to do it.

The caravan was still empty when Ignis got back. He smoothed the sheets on the bed, closed the curtains as best he could. After checking them for the third time, he found himself standing, immobile and tense in the middle of the cramped space. This wasn’t working. He hated that the prospect of intimacy with Gladiolus riled up his nerves. But the stakes had never been so high. This wasn’t about their relationship, it was about Ignis proving to himself he had enough willpower to fight the apprehension and the fear that persistently inhabited him.

‘You trust him,’ he said slowly to the empty room.

The words rang true and it helped. He only had to wait a bit longer, holding himself on a tight enough leash that he wouldn’t fall apart. He sat on the bench and put some music on to occupy his mind.  
_The Stage is Set_ was playing when Gladio finally came back and Ignis had to smile at the irony. But it wasn’t enough to stop Gladiolus from noticing his peculiar frame of mind.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked almost immediately.  
‘Check the curtains for me.’

Ignis was pretty sure Gladiolus was scowling at the lack of answer, but he still moved to obey.

‘They’re good. Talk to me, Iggy.’  
‘In a minute,’ Ignis said to placate him.

Instead, he took off his gloves and his shirt, folding it and dropping it on the table. He undid his belt and the buttons of his fly. He couldn’t hear Gladiolus but he knew he was close, probably staring. The pants joined the shirt. Ignis didn’t get to remove his briefs, his wrists trapped in a gentle but unyielding hold.

‘Uh, uh. We’re not doing this until you tell me what’s going on.’  
‘I was going to.’

Ignis twisted his hands, not to get free, but so he could lay them on Gladiolus’s forearms. The skin was warm and soft under his fingertips, muscles and tendons standing out but relaxed. Ignis tried to remember, or to imagine - he wasn’t sure there was a difference anymore - what it all looked like. His hands covering the edge of the feathered tattoos, his thumbs stroking the fine skin on the inside of the wrists. He’d lowered his eyes, his mind responding to the image in his head as if it was there in front of him. But of course, he could see nothing. Gladiolus was waiting, solid and patient as always. And Ignis wanted to talk, to explain, but despite running this conversation in his head many times over, words were still hard to come by.  
Instead he stepped into Gladiolus’s space and leant against his shoulder. He had finally come to accept that denying himself comfort when he needed it was unhelpful. And Gladio usually ended up coaxing him into it anyway. Ignis’s hands were free now, free to follow the familiar line of Gladio’s arms, to loop around his shoulders. Strong arms linked behind his waist, drawing him closer. Now they touched everywhere and Ignis could feel the coolness of Gladiolus’s clothes against his mostly naked skin. He thought about what they looked like, standing like this in the middle of an empty caravan, Gladiolus fully-clothed holding him close and bare. Ignis ignored how breakable and exposed he felt, but focused on the fledgling lust the image conjured up. This was what he needed. Desire and physicality were tools he could use, if only he could keep doubts and self-consciousness under wrap.  
And still, Gladiolus waited. His lips brushed Ignis’s temple and his cheek rested against his hair, but he demanded nothing, only waited for him to be ready. Ignis had never been more aware of how much he owed him than in that instant. Gladio’s patience and support were the foundations he’d been slowly rebuilding his confidence on - one step at a time. And he had to take one more, a step that if he could negotiate it successfully should also tell Gladiolus all that Ignis didn’t know how to say about unconditional trust and gratitude and feelings he didn’t want to name but knew well enough. So he took a deep breath and steeled himself, hoping Gladiolus would understand enough to know he couldn’t refuse the offer he was about to make.

‘I want you to watch me.’  
‘What?’ Gladiolus sounded confused. ‘Iggy, given the circumstances I don’t like to mention it, but trust me, I love watching you. This is not something you have to worry about.’  
‘That’s not what I meant.’  
‘Okay. Go on.’

Ignis sighed. He had to get his thoughts in order. He stepped away and went to sit on the bed. Gladiolus didn’t try to hold him back.

‘I’m tired, Gladio. And not just because I don’t sleep well. Trying to figure out what’s going on at all times is exhausting, but I can’t very well stop. It’s like an endless race, with no pause, no relief, and no hope of ever being allowed to stop.’  
‘Iggy…’

Gladiolus kneeled in front of him, setting a careful hand on his knee, obviously unsure of what to say.

‘I know you’ve been trying to help. And I’m grateful for that.’

They hadn’t fooled around much since he came back to Hammerhead, the few hours of rest they were getting usually best spent trying to sleep. But every time they had, Gladiolus had pulled the curtains closed and turned off the lights, trying to darken the caravan as much as possible. It wasn’t the untouchable cocoon of the Balouve mine but it was as safe a space as they could manage. Ignis knew it was all for his benefit. From their first time together, Gladiolus had always loved watching him. But he gave it up without a second thought, so Ignis could stop thinking about what the world around him looked like.

‘But it’s not enough. I need a place where I can stop, even if only for a little while, and I’m not getting that. I thought it’d get easier with time but it’s just not happening.’  
‘It hasn’t been that long. Be patient.’  
‘Patience is not the issue. I don’t believe it’s going to work. Comfort is only making me complacent. I need something to change. Besides, rationally, I know there’s no reason for me to be on my guard when we’re safe and together. I trust you. But it’s been so long, I don’t know how to simply stop anymore. And I don’t want to feel that way, not here, not with you.’  
‘Okay. What do you want to do?’  
‘As I said, watch me. I used to love your eyes on me. Let me find that feeling again. Leave the lights on, let me struggle with it. Just be there. Let me know you’re there. I’ll get over it.’  
‘I don’t know, Iggy,’ Gladio said, soft and concerned. ‘I get you’re frustrated, but pushing yourself like that could backfire.’  
‘I’ll be careful. But I need to do this.’

Gladiolus shifted to rub at his face. He was silent for several long seconds, but finally sighed as if he’d reluctantly come to a decision.

‘Fine. But on one condition.’  
‘Tell me.’  
‘I’m going to be understanding about how difficult this is for you. And I won’t forget how insanely strong and stubborn you are. But if it reaches the point where I think it’s making things worse, I’ll ask you to stop. If it comes to that, I want you to promise me you will and you’ll let me take care of you. No arguments, no buts, no sarcasm.’

Ignis nodded slowly, pensively. Even his time alone was littered with doubts and anxiety. His faith in Gladiolus was all he had left to act as a rampart. It was his only chance to drop his armour and claim a momentary peace. If he didn’t trust him now, the whole undertaking would fail before it even began.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’  
‘How do you want to do this?’  
‘Honestly, I had some ideas, but that was before I spectacularly pulled us out of the moment.’  
‘That I can help with.’

As always, Gladiolus was true to his word. He shuffled forward just enough to take Ignis’s face in his hands. The kiss was soft and tender at first, but soon turned more aggressive and purposeful. Gladio’s hand slid to Ignis’s neck, shoulder, down to his chest, encouraging rather than demanding him to lay back. Ignis complied, falling backwards onto the bed and Gladiolus followed, placing a knee between his legs to pull himself up. Ignis’s fingers grabbed his hair, dragging him down and turning the kiss rough. It was messy and satisfying. They were both short of breath when they finally separated.

’There. Better?’  
‘Much. Thank you.’  
‘Any time.’  
‘You said you’d give me all the rides I wanted.’  
‘I did,’ Gladio said smiling. ‘And then some.’  
‘Up for it?’

Gladiolus’s breath hitched.

‘Fuck, Iggy. Yes. Of course. As if you have to ask. But,’ he said, his tone suddenly serious, ‘remember how long it’s been, we can’t rush this.’  
‘I wasn’t planning to.’  
‘As long as we’re on the same page.’

Gladiolus raised himself up and leant forward on one arm to rummage in the cabinet at the head of the bed. Ignis’s fingertips followed the spread of pectorals and abs above him, lightly enough to make Gladio shiver and laugh. Ignis snatched the bottle from his hand when he sat back down.

‘I’ll take care of that. You sit back and watch.’

There was an instant of hesitation before Gladiolus spoke again, but Ignis knew he wouldn’t go back on his word.

‘Tell me if you want help.’

Gladio had to get off the narrow bed to not be in the way and went to sit on the edge of the table. Ignis propped the pillows up a bit steeper before finally getting rid of his briefs and leaning back. He closed his eyes, taking a couple of slow deep breaths. It was far from the first time he’d done this. He remembered Gladiolus, in his flat in Insomnia, staring at him as he’d touched himself in slow and deliberate ministrations. Ignis’d held Gladio’s gaze the whole time, unwavering, teasing, unapologetically lubricious. He’d let him watch everything as he opened himself up, slowly, thoroughly. The intimacy of the connection they shared knowing why he was doing this, for who, the promise and anticipation behind it, had been breathtaking. And Ignis had revelled in Gladiolus’s reactions, the darkening lust in his eyes, the way he wet his lips and palmed his cock in search for brief fleeting relief. He’d pushed him to the limits of his patience, until Gladio couldn’t stand to not be allowed to come closer, to touch, to lick, and kiss, and fuck. Ignis had loved every second, heady with the power he’d held, naked and exposed in the comfort of his bed.

But the shift in his reality was staggering. He couldn’t see Gladiolus, could only hear him if he moved. He felt no power in his hands, only raw vulnerability and an ill-defined fear.  
And yet, he was the one who’d asked for this. He’d been thinking about it for days, each night when he couldn’t sleep, under the shower when the water turned icy and he still couldn’t bring himself to move, and he had to go through with it. He was still half-hard from the rough kiss they shared, and he let his hand find his cock, ignoring how tense his muscles were underneath his fingertips. He pushed in the hold, and it was good, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction.  
Ignis couldn’t stand the incongruity between his rational thoughts and his petrified state of mind any more. But if he could go through the motions, if he could bare himself fully and prove to his cowering side that its apprehension was unfounded, if he could do that… Then maybe something would change. It had to. Because he had no other plan of action if this one failed. He wouldn’t know how to go on.  
He spread lube on his fingers, his other hand cupping his balls and he reached in, past tight reluctant muscles. Fuck. Gladiolus had been right. It’d been too long. He added more lubrication and tried to relax but the tension he could feel vibrating under his skin wasn’t easing off. He kept at it. Patience always did the trick.  
He froze a couple of times at the noises coming from the outside. A car speeding away. The piercing cry of a Bennu flying overhead. But it didn’t compare to the flare of panic in his chest when Gladiolus moved. Ignis didn’t want to be asked to stop. He could do this. If it was out of sheer stubbornness then so be it, he would push himself through it. But Gladiolus didn’t say anything, he just moved to the end of the bed. Ignis felt the mattress dip as he sat down on the edge. Fingers closed around his ankle, thumb stroking at the curve of the bone. It was a small, undemanding contact but it helped. This wasn’t just about him and Ignis couldn’t forget that. _Get over yourself_ , he thought. _One step at a time_ , the rhythmic caress on his skin seemed to answer.  
And so he followed it. His fingers reached in deeper with each brush on his skin, following the same cadence. And soon it became obvious that Gladiolus understood the control he’d been given over Ignis’s actions and what he could do. He pushed Ignis then reined him in, repeatedly, as he used to do with a look or a hint of tongue from across the room an eternity ago. It wasn’t the same but it worked. Ignis pushed away all intrusive thoughts and allowed himself to be guided at a demanding but always careful tempo. Over and over again, the minutes passing in a haze of pleasant soreness. Eventually, Gladio’s fingertips slowed down and dug deeper, firmer, massaging. Ignis complied. He had to get up on an elbow and lean forward, curving his spine, to push himself that little bit further, beyond reason and comfort. But it was worth it. There it was. Heat and sparks. His hips stuttered against his fingers as a strangled moan was ripped out of him and pleasure made him curl further into himself.

Gladiolus muttered under his breath, low and aroused. It sounded like ‘so fucking hot’ but Ignis was too distracted to be sure. He felt Gladio’s hand still on his leg for a second, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being dragged down together with a sigh of relief. Ignis could hear his breathing now, just a bit too loud in the small space of the caravan. _I’m doing this_ , he thought. The intensity of the satisfaction and pleasure that came with that realisation surprised him. He’d forgotten how good it felt to have Gladiolus respond to him so perfectly, enthralled and soon-to-be desperate.  
He clung to that feeling with the desperation of a drowning man suddenly finding flotsam under his thrashing hands. He let his mind haul itself alongside it, reaching outwards beyond the confines of melancholy and hopelessness he’d trapped himself into.

He straightened his leg in Gladiolus’s loose hold to get his foot against the bunched muscles of his thigh, using it for support as he fucked himself on his fingers. It was slow and deliberate, his toes digging into the leather each time he pushed down. Gladio was still loosely holding his ankle, but he wasn’t trying to participate anymore. The strokes of his other hand on his cock were audibly speeding up and slowing down in turn, trying to provide relief without going too far. If Ignis had had any doubts what he’d been doing, they were thoroughly erased. Saliva flooded his mouth at the thought. Unadulterated lust had a distinct flavour and it’d been too long since he’d tasted it, overflowing on his tongue. Fuck. He was properly worked-up now and the nauseating tension was gone, replaced by a strain of a very different nature.  
But Ignis’s arm was tiring out. No matter how flexible he was, this kind of work-out was never easy nor comfortable and this was taking longer than it used to. Ignis needed a break. Both physically and mentally. He knew he hadn’t won yet, far from it, but there was no point pushing himself to breaking point when they were just getting started.

‘Gladio…’  
‘Fuck, Iggy, have you got any idea what you’re doing to me?’  
‘Yes. You’re not nearly as discreet as you think you are.’  
‘I’m not trying to be. How you’re doing?’  
‘Getting there. But having to work with nothing but my fingers is a pain. It might take some time. Unless you help.’  
‘I can help,’ Gladiolus answered immediately, his hand sliding up from Ignis’s ankle to his thigh. The mattress dipped further under his weight as he climbed on it.

Ignis had to laugh at how keen he sounded, the enthusiasm reinforced by the sound of clothes being removed and kicked off.

‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘Still, I’m supervising the requisitions, you’d think I could get a couple of very special toys if I need them.’  
‘Isn’t Noct signing all special requisition orders?’  
‘You have to admit, that’d be a fun way to tell him.’

Gladiolus froze for a second, before sniggering.

‘Sometimes I can’t figure out if you’re serious or not.’  
‘As tempting as it sounds, there are limits even to my indecency.’  
‘Who would have thought… Noct dodged a bullet on that one and he’ll never even know about it.’  
‘Oh, I don’t know. I might tell him one day, if I need to make him cringe.’  
‘Ignis Scientia, you are one wicked human being.’  
‘And yet, here you are. It’s almost as if you like it.’  
‘Someone has to show you the error of your ways.’  
‘And how do you propose to do that?’  
‘First, you’re going to stop talking.’  
‘It’s cute how you always think that’s going to happen.’  
‘We’ll see.’  
‘I guess we will,’ Ignis said, making sure he had the last word.

He was pretty sure Gladiolus was rolling his eyes at him, but it mattered little when warm fingers closed on his wrist and pulled away the hand he still had between his legs. He handed the bottle of lube over.  
Ignis had done good work already and Gladio had access to a much better angle, with the added advantage of being able to put his mouth on and around Ignis’s cock to distract him. Thinking started to feel difficult and unnecessary and it wasn’t long before Ignis’s body gave up on resisting the relentless onslaught it was subjected to. But Gladiolus didn’t pause, he kept on working him up, with his tongue, with his fingers, with every sliver of knowledge he’d gathered over the years. Ignis sank his teeth in the back of his hand to try and stop the sounds that wanted to escape his throat, his spine arching repeatedly in response to that perfect and precise brush of Gladiolus’s fingers inside of him. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Gladio…’

He got a noncommittal hum for his efforts but little else.

‘Gladio, stop.’

This time, the reaction was immediate and dramatic. Gladiolus froze, before cautiously raising himself above Ignis. He stayed there but made sure he wasn’t touching him anymore.

‘Sorry, I got carried away. You’re okay?’

Gladiolus couldn’t hide the distinct note of alarm and concern in his voice and Ignis felt guilt claw at his throat. It occurred to him then how fragile and cracked their relationship had become. After everything that happened, he was not the only one who was on edge, who double-guessed himself and worried about making a wrong move. Yet, despite the tension and the difficulties, neither of them were ready to give up.  
Ignis reached out and Gladiolus met him, leaning his cheek in his hand, letting fingers stroke the beard along his jawline.

‘I’m good. Better than good actually,’ Ignis said, rising off the mattress to kiss Gladiolus, short and sweet. ‘But I still want that ride, and we were never going to get there if you’d kept going.’

Tension drained from Gladio, like a full-bodied sigh. And then, with no warning, Ignis got pushed down into the pillows and a mouth clashed with his own in relief and hunger. Gladio’s tone was rough and lustful when he spoke next.

‘After all the work we did, it’d be a shame.’  
‘Exactly. Come on, let’s swap.’

The change in position was impossible to achieve on the narrow mattress and Ignis had to get up, on slightly unsteady legs. Gladiolus leant back against the pillows, shifting them until he felt comfortable.

‘Give me your hand, this is going to be tricky.’  
‘I want a real bed,’ Ignis said with pretend sullenness. Gladio laughed at him but had to agree.  
’Trust me, you’re not the only one.’

They quieted down after that. Ignis climbed over Gladiolus, placing a knee on each side of him. The mattress was just wide enough to accommodate them. There was no room for error. Ignis put a hand on Gladio’s chest for support, the muscles firm and familiar under his fingers, as he leant forward and bowed his spine. He felt Gladiolus’s breathing pick up, deeper and faster when his other hand took hold of his cock and he lowered himself on it. Gradually. Carefully. Despite all their efforts, it’d been too long for it to be an easy task. Ignis took his time, rolling his hips just a fraction to encourage his body to open up again and accept inch after inch in a slow but persistent advance that made the muscles in his legs burn. Gladio’s hands were on his thighs, firm and supportive, his thumbs tracing gentle, encouraging circles on his skin. Ignis had to pause when he was finally seated against Gladiolus. His mind was a swirl of bliss, relief and a dull, full ache he couldn’t quite overcome yet.

‘Give me a minute,’ he said, eyes closed. It made no difference but it helped him feel calmer.  
‘Take your time.’

Gladio sounded short of breath but he held himself perfectly still, except for the slow caress of his hands. Ignis waited until the ache receded, still perceptible but already defeated. His first few attempts at moving were tentative, cautious. But it remained pleasant. Familiar and safe.

‘Gladio…’  
‘I know.’

He didn’t have to ask this time. His ‘watch me’ went unsaid. Gladiolus understood well enough. And it was already easier. Although Ignis couldn’t hold Gladiolus’s gaze, or glare at the judgmental feathered prick inked on his chest, there was no room for his mind to tumble down into unhelpful misgivings and panic, not when they were interlocked so intimately that none of their reactions was uniquely their own. Or nearly none. Ignis wouldn’t be able to see Gladio’s eyes turning dark and burning, even though he knew they would… If he applied himself, they would and he’d know. He’d feel it in Gladio’s breathing, in the desperate touch of his hands, in the faltering of his hips. It would be enough. It had to be.  
Ignis leant back on his arms, his palms firmly planted on Gladiolus’s thighs. With him on his knees, his body curved backwards like a bow in one graceful line. He could feel it stretching out through the muscles of his legs still under Gladiolus’s hands, along the plane of his stomach and chest, down his shoulders and arms. He couldn’t see, but energy coursed along the perfectly sketched contour he'd created. He just had enough purchase to move, the rise and fall of his hips wanton and calculated. It was perfect. That position hid nothing. Gladiolus wasted not time to notice. He let out a low curse that sounded like a moan and his hands slid under Ignis’s thighs, to hold him and feel the muscles strain.

Ignis kept going, focusing on the slow drag of Gladiolus inside of him, on the flickers of pleasure that threatened to sap him of his strength, on the growing need in his core. It wasn’t a pace that would easily bring them to completion, but neither of them wanted to rush. Gladio had propped himself up on one arm and his other hand was following long lean muscle planes with raw desire and reverence. His breathing was uneven, heavier every time Ignis set himself down against him. But it wasn’t enough. Ignis needed more. There was a vacant space in his mind where he used to relish the hunger in Gladiolus’s eyes when they glanced over his body. He missed it.

’Tell me what you see,’ he whispered.

Gladio didn’t answer right away, but the slow squeeze of his hand on his hip told Ignis he’d been heard. He didn’t stop, only spread his knees a little bit more, until he was at the edge of the mattress, so he could bear down and take Gladiolus even deeper. He did this a couple of times until he made Gladiolus moan and shiver.

‘Fuck, okay… yeah… I’ll try, but slow down a bit. I… Fuck, I love watching you. You’re so goddamn beautiful, Iggy,’ Gladiolus managed although his words stayed choppy and disjointed. ‘You’re just… so perfect. I see you. All of you. I see your muscles move in turn in your arms and your legs. I can see that white scar across your abs, you know the one. And your skin is starting to glisten with sweat. Fuck.’

Ignis smiled, victorious, when Gladio stopped talking as he tilted his hips and ground against him. The connection between them was blurry, hot. Ignis only held it for a few seconds. He didn’t want to push them too far. Not yet.

‘Keep talking.’  
‘You’re making this difficult.’  
‘I know,’ Ignis said, unapologetic.  
‘Damn it… Fine. Then you look way too smug.’  
‘I’ll take it. What else?’  
‘Your hair is a mess. And I can see… fuck, Iggy, I can see you going down on my cock, every single fucking time you move. And sue me but it’s beautiful, you’re taking it so well, it’s like it’s made to be there. You’re hard too, so hard. I don’t even need to touch you to tell. Your dick jumps every time you move, and it’s so hot and wet. You look fucking sinful. And I want to stroke it, but I can’t risk pushing you too far. Because I don’t want it to stop. Not now, not ever if I could. I can’t get enough of this, of you. Fuck, Iggy, I’ve missed us so much.’

Ignis’s rhythm faltered. This was what he’d wanted to hear, but damn it, if he didn’t nearly come just hearing those words. Shit. Gladio wasn’t holding back, no matter how flustered he might have felt displaying such candour.

‘I missed us too, Gladio. So damn much. Thanks for talking for me.’  
‘I’m not done yet.’  
‘Okay,’ Ignis said, steeling himself for what was coming next, but wanting to hear it all the same.  
‘Your skin is all flushed, everywhere, and it’s so fucking hot. You were biting your lips when you took me in the first time. And you wet them every time you push down, and when I see that bit of tongue, it does things to me I can’t describe. But you have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.’

There was only one possible answer to that. Ignis straightened up, grimacing when his arms complained at the sudden lack of strain. It only took a slight shift of his hips that robbed them both of breath for Ignis to be leaning forward, kissing Gladiolus, hungry and appreciative. He lost himself into the demanding mouth on his own, the smouldering heat between his legs, the hands in his hair. Gladio tugged at him just enough for their lips to come apart.

‘Want more?’

Ignis’s heart skipped a beat. He knew what this meant. He knew Gladiolus remembered what he liked, how he always wanted this to end. The idea alone made him feel weak and set his desire ablaze.

‘Please.’

He kissed Gladiolus again, but he couldn’t miss him shifting under him. Strong, powerful thighs came to rest against his buttocks as Gladiolus planted his feet squarely on the bed for leverage. Hands slid down Ignis’s back and settled on his waist, holding him fast and getting him to tilt his pelvis a fraction more, to get the perfect angle This was so familiar to them, they knew what they needed by instinct. Gladio’s cock moved inside Ignis, a couple of long slow strokes, checking angle and purchase. So fucking good already. And it was nothing compared to what was coming.  
A hand came to rest on Ignis’s cheek, pushing his hair off his face, followed by what he assumed to be a few moments of scrutiny on Gladio’s part.

‘You want it bad, don’t you?’ Gladiolus asked softly, his voice thick with lust and wonder.  
‘Yes,’ Ignis said simply because it was the truth.

The hand dropped back to his hip.

‘I’ve got you. But brace yourself all the same.’

Ignis had a hand on the cabinet door at the head of the bed and the other planted in the sheets by Gladiolus’s head. It would do. He didn’t get another warning before Gladiolus started moving again, in earnest this time. Hard and fast. And deep. So deep into him. Ignis couldn’t have managed to stay put if the hands at his waist didn’t hold him solidly, letting Gladiolus control him, letting him push against the grip as well as into him. And already it was too much. Ignis never lasted long when it came to this. It was perfect and Gladio’s unrelenting stamina ensured he had no escape, no respite, no way out. He could only take and take, over and over again, his jaw set to try to last just a bit longer, whimpers escaping through clenched teeth despite his best efforts. His cock was still hard and forlorn, but he ignored it. He knew from experience that he could come like this, just from Gladiolus driving into him, glancing over his prostrate on each upstroke. He could feel it, the quickly expanding promise of cresting pleasure coiling in his gut, waiting for an excuse to surge forth and overcome him.  
Gladiolus whispering his name in encouragement and gratitude, the sharp breaths he let out, the smell of sweat and sex, it all poured into an ocean of sensations Ignis willingly drowned into. It was too much and it was exactly what he’d wanted. There was nothing left but craving and the slap of skin against skin in a beautiful and unapologetic rhythm. Warmth and mind-numbing pleasure overcame him as Gladiolus’s cock still plunged into him, tirelessly, keeping the sensations awake and unyielding. When Ignis finally collapsed and thoughts returned, he realised Gladio was panting heavily and had nearly stilled against him. His hips were still pushing by reflex in erratic but minute motions. They didn’t move. Not until sweat cooled on their skin, not until they were breathing on the same slightly too deliberate rhythm, not until Gladiolus was completely soft and slipped out. Ignis pushed himself up then, grabbing a pillow case to clean them up with shaky hands. He dropped it on the floor and already strong hands were on him, as Gladiolus rolled to his side, back against the wall, to make room for him on the mattress. He used a couple of fingers under Ignis’s chin to tilt his head for a better view.

‘You look positively debauched,’ he said. ‘It suits you.’

Ignis laughed, noting with satisfaction that there was no bitter disquiet in his mind at hearing about the image he presented. It might not last but for now it was a victory.

‘And whose fault is that?’  
‘I plead guilty, with no remorse. Given the chance, I’d do it all over again.’  
‘Good. I hoped you’d say that.’  
‘I thought you might,’ Gladio said, kissing the scar on Ignis’s brow before drawing him close.

It was late already and as much as they’d enjoyed their evening, their responsibilities would still be waiting for them in the morning. They got comfortable and waited for sleep to come and stop the slow, long caress of fingers against naked skin. Gladiolus fell asleep first. Three days on the road and his impeccable performance of the evening had finally got the better of him. Ignis basked in the quietude, waiting until he heard Gladio’s breathing slow down to the inimitable rhythm of deep slumber to put a finger on his left pectoral.

‘I know you’re there, featherbrain,’ he murmured to the majestic inked creature forever lost within impenetrable shadows. ‘Prideful and judgy, as usual. I can’t see you but it changes nothing. You still can’t have him. I won’t let you. He’s mine.’

He hesitated for a second before repeating, louder and clear in the silence of the caravan.

‘He’s mine.’

He waited for the doubts and the self-denigration to attack.

But nothing came.

The space around them remained warm and comfortable, undisturbed. A perfect receptacle for the truth. The thought tied a knot made of grateful but unforgiving emotions deep in Ignis’s chest. He wouldn’t name them. They were not oppressive or dark, far from it, but their intensity made them hard to bear all the same. Ignis’s eyes were burning, and for once, he didn’t want to blame it on a lack of blinking. Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to loosen the ache in his breast. Air came out of him in a choked-up sob of relief he failed to smother.

The hand laid on his waist slid around to splay across his back in a soothing caress.

‘Iggy…’ Gladio’s voice was rough with sleep. ‘You’re okay?’  
‘I’m fine,’ Ignis said, fascinated by how sincere the words sounded when he meant them. He’d forgotten.

Strong arms closed around him, possessive and vigilant. This time, he didn’t fight sleep when it came.

Endorphins were wonderful. Ignis didn’t stir that night, not until Gladiolus turned his alarm off hours later and climbed over him to get dressed. Ignis idly thought as he lay on his stomach, unmoving, that at least blindness meant he didn’t have to hide his face to shy away from the glare of the morning light. It was a small benefit, but it was something. He had to get up too and go kick Noctis out of bed, like he did pretty much every morning. But he was still sated and comfortable, and listening to Gladiolus move about the caravan was soothing. He’d missed their domesticity more than he’d care to admit.  
Too soon, Gladiolus was tying his boots, ready to head out. He set his pack by the door and came to sit on the mattress, his hand brushing along Ignis’s spine.

‘Morning, sleeping beauty. You need to get up.’  
‘I know.’

Ignis rolled over so he could pull Gladio down and kiss him.

‘Be careful out there.’  
‘Always am. Iggy?’  
‘Hm?’  
‘Before you go shower, you should know you have some very telltale bruises on you.’

Gladio lined his hand up, one finger at time, on Ignis’s waist where he’d held him the previous night.

‘Just there. On both sides,’ he said, unable to hide the satisfaction glowing in his voice.  
‘Enjoying the view, are you?’  
‘I sure am. It’s a goddamn pretty sight.’

Ignis’s covered Gladio’s fingers with his own and exerted just enough pressure to feel the twinge in his muscles.

‘I can feel it. It’s sore in all the good ways.’  
‘Iggy, don’t,’ Gladio warned. ‘Fuck. Don’t.’  
‘I’m going to be feeling your hands on me all day.’  
‘Damn it. Couldn’t help yourself, could you?.’  
‘Just don’t think about it. We wouldn’t want you distracted.’  
‘Shiva, have mercy on me. You just wait until I’m back, I’ll make you pay for that.’  
‘What’re you gonna do? Give me more indecent bruises to remember you by?’  
‘You bet your sweet ass I will. Now, shut up and kiss me. I need to run.’

Ignis was still laughing as he straightened the caravan into something that didn’t look like a den of salacity. He got dressed and made his way across the settlement. The morning air had just enough bite to be invigorating. He knocked on Noctis’s door, snickering at the predictable grumbling that answered him. Ignis leant against the wall, knowing it would be a few minutes before Noct emerged from his room. He wrapped an arm around his waist, letting his fingers gently prod at the flesh over his hip. The pain was faint and exquisite.  
And as he waited for his King, Ignis knew that despite all the difficulties he was still facing, the most important parts of his life had survived his ordeal unscathed. Whether light reached him or not, his duty and his love were all he needed to head onwards.

One step at a time.

 

 

*** The End or A New Beginning ***

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a gentle reminder, that if you fancy leaving one, I really thrive on comments. ;)


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